


all that goodness (gone with you)

by softestpink



Category: DC Extended Universe, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, College Appropriate Sleep Deprivation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Literal Sleeping Together, Mutual Pining, Sharing Clothes, Slow Burn, Tenderness, late night belly burger runs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: It's different because they're not kids bumping around each other, embarrassing in the way that everything is when you're fourteen.  It's different because she's not holding a bottle of eczema cream over her legs and shrieking while Barry covers his eyes with a gasp and chokes on the over-perfumed air.It's different because he’s actually past puberty and it's Iris, waking up in his bed, in his clothes, in his armsIt’s just different.





	1. singing like a bird

**Author's Note:**

> the original title of this was just 'theyre in fookin love.docx'

It's two thirty-four in the morning when Barry gets a call from Lena Luthor claiming that Iris is 'wasted and keeps asking for you' and then he spends the next four minutes slightly panicked and being handed from sorority girl to sorority girl before he hears Iris' bubbly voice. There's something with heavy bass playing and a chorus of screaming girls that wakes Barry up more and more. 

 

"Barry!" she's loud enough when she finally answers that he has to pull the phone away from his ear a little. 

 

"Iris what’s going on?" 

 

"I was- might've been sick earlier." she says, slurred and suddenly mournful. "Real sick. Sorry, Bear. I'm- what I mean is i'm all good now! So s'very fine!"

 

"You sure?" he asks because he doesn't believe that for one second. Iris is the daughter of a cop and only really started drinking around last year, (when the fear of Joe West driving two and a half hours to do random check-ups started to abate). Neither she nor Barry are exactly famous for holding their liquor. "Iris?"

 

"Bear? I. Can you come get me? I rode with Linda. " she sounds even more miserable now, further away from the music and loud cheering. 

 

"I’ll-" Before he can finish, Barry hears a muffled retching noise that makes him sit up in his bed and start pulling on whatever is in reach.

 

"Iris," he says, sandwiching his cellphone between his shoulder and his ear. He talks to her while he dresses. "I'm on my way. Stay where you are, I'm coming right now."

 

He can hear her distressed groan through the tinny speaker.

 

Barry runs downstairs and Cisco, his roommate, throws something distinctly shoe-shaped across the room at the sound of Barry  **_interrupting his sleep_ ** . Fortunately, Barry's shitty reflexes aren’t up for hard work and it smacks against the wall with a weak tap.

 

"Iris needs me. I promise we won’t wake you up when we come back. Sorry, dude!"

 

Cisco groans into his pillow and his "whatever" is muffled but Barry takes it for the victory it is.  

 

Barry's big enough to admit that he speeds through about three red lights in blind panic before he calms down enough to actively avoid getting a ticket he can't afford to pay. Luckily the campus roads are pretty much a ghost town at this hour on a Thursday night. 

 

Iris goes to SCU, about twenty-two miles away from CCU and Barry himself, which means each of them ends up making the half hour drive to see one another pretty much whenever they feel like it. 

 

They're maybe a little bit codependent. 

 

He notices in the car that underneath his only coat, he's wearing the high school mathletes shirt that he uses to wipe stains from his desk, track pants, and ratty tennis shoes. Not his greatest look but it's not like Iris will care and he's not going back to change. Cisco would definitely kill him if nothing else. 

 

Barry's alone on the road except for the occasional truck heading to Star City, which means he makes it to SCU in record time and then does an impressive Facebook investigation that confirms Iris is at the Kappa Gamma Kappa house for Winter Slush Night. It takes him another ten minutes to track down the house and then he wonders how it wasn't the first place he found. The music is loud when he pulls up, but it's deafening as he walks into the house. 

 

Barry gets an enthusiastic high five from some guy on the porch that he's never met in his life and then shoulders past about fifteen people that look way past buzzed and on their way to fucked up before he collides with a girl he recognizes as Linda Park. She's a Kappa and one of Iris' buddies at the paper. 

 

"Oh my goooood! Iris said you were cute but not this cute!" she yells over the music and grabs his hand before walking him through a kitchen area and turning down a hallway. Barry is distracted, in a state of sensory overload with the bass of something by The Weeknd shaking his sternum and trying to avoid tripping on the occasional plastic cup. It's not long before Linda's pulled him to door decked in stickers and mini-whiteboards that she knocks on lightly.

 

"Iris?!" Barry's pretty sure Linda doesn't even know she's yelling. "Barry's here. He came to get you! He's still got bed-hair and crusty eyes and everything!" 

 

Barry swipes at any possible crust, squints, and scratches the back of his head. He’s too a little too anxious about Iris to worry about how trashy he looks. 

 

"Iris?" 

 

The door swings open tentatively and Iris- sleepy-looking, rum-smelling, drunk Iris stumbles forward into him. Barry hugs her instinctively and feels her deep sigh as she tries to right herself and somehow trips into him again. 

 

"Hey. Oh, my god." she says. "These shoes are like. Walk traps?" 

 

She's got a half empty bottle of water in one hand and she isn't slurring anymore, but he knows she's still far from sober. 

 

"I believe you." Barry says, dumbfounded, because the shoes in question are at least four and a half inches tall and the heels are razor-thin. They do interesting things for Iris' legs which are very, very exposed in her short dress. 

 

Barry resolves to keep his eyes glued to her face because at first (and second and third) glance, Iris is wearing a tight, striped, red and white scrap of nothing that her breasts are straining. A lining of white fur keeps him from seeing any hint of nipple but Barry know it’s a close call. She must have stapled herself into that.  

 

He’s going to think of something else- anything else right now.

 

"Barry. Bear, Care-Bear." Barry's face flames. She hasn't called him that since the third grade. "You're here. Lena let me use a toothbrush."

 

Iris holds up a spare, generic yellow toothbrush in her hand that isn't carrying the water bottle. 

 

"Thank youuuu." she groans and hugs Barry close again and whispers in his ear. "You're the best, Barry." 

 

and she's soft and smells like sweat, strawberries, and Bacardi and there is literally no timeline or Earth in which Barry Allen isn't going to take her home. 

 

Iris leans down to take the heels off because it's immediately apparent she can't walk in them and then, when she nearly bowls over, it's also immediately apparent that she can't take her own heels off at all. So Barry sends up a prayer that he won't embarrass himself and gets on his knees to help her. 

 

"Why don’t you sit this one out? I got you." he pushes at her fumbling fingers and then gently undoes the ankle straps. Her calves are soft. He's pretty sure she's wearing body glitter. Barry saves that information for later, when teasing her about it won't get him kicked in the arm. 

 

"Thanks, Bear." she sighs, swaying and leaning back up. She rests a hand on Barry's shoulder. He doesn't look up until he's finished because he knows his limits and staring up at her while he’s on his knees won’t keep him focused. 

 

Iris ends up hopping onto Barry's back while he works to avoid the landmines of beer bottles and plastic cups strewn across the floor. Well. She doesn't really jump onto his back so much as she slouches on him until Barry rolls his eyes and then lowers until she can properly climb him. He keeps her razor sharp heels in one hand and then grunts when Iris squeezes her thighs and cries "Yeehaw!" into his left ear. 

 

He's never gonna let her forget about this. 

 

"I'm never gonna let you forget about this." 

 

He fakes butterfingers a couple times, an old prank from their childhood, but Iris yelps and tells him in no uncertain terms that she will die and take him with her if her bare feet touch the floor. 

 

"Eugh." he can tell she's making a face that is adorable "that's disgusting, have you seen this carpet? I'm pretty sure I saw a couple freshmen puking on it earlier."

 

"Must've been relatable, huh?" 

 

She giggles and then groans, so the jury's probably still out on her upchucking again. 

 

"Shut up. Don't make me laugh, Barry Allen." 

 

They make it out of the front door with a few slaps to Iris' butt by a couple of rowdy girls and one very drunk person that hugs Iris, and by uncomfortable proxy, Barry. 

 

"Bye, Iris!!"

 

"Byeeeeee!" 

 

"Later, Newsie!" 

 

A chorus of goodbyes trail behind them as Barry walks them out to the steps and he can feel Iris waving behind him and then weaving her arm back around his neck.

 

"What's with the dress?" he asks her, hoping he isn't jostling her enough to turn her stomach again. 

 

"I'm a candy cane. Duh." 

 

"Duh." Barry laughs when she mocks his voice. He can tell she’s thinking about all the times in high school when she’d make fun of girls for skimpy party costumes.  

 

“You can’t make fun of me! It was last minute!" 

 

She climbs off of him when they get to the car and Barry is about to ask how the dirty ground outside is  _ less _ objectionable to tainted carpet but then she's careful to step on his feet before sliding into the passenger seat. It puts them close, makes all of her brush up against all of him for a couple seconds. Her hair is falling out of its pinned up style and a couple strands brush his cheek when she balances a hand on his shoulder. For some reason, just that touch makes his head swim for a couple seconds.

 

Barry has to take a deep breath before getting into the driver's seat. It figures that only Iris Ann West could be this disarming rum-addled and half-sick.

 

"Just don't expect me to help you out of that." he says, starting up the car. The engine purrs, the heat comes on, and Iris curls up in the seat, smacking half-heartedly at his shoulder. 

 

"It's not even that tight." she wiggles and he knows her lying face. 

 

"I remember prom." he says, because he does. Iris had practically vacuumed herself into this blue ballgown of a dress that Barry had had to fetch scissors for the next morning when she had to pee and couldn't get past the thirteen layers of tulle and chiffon. 

 

"You wish." and then she softens, grin fading a little. 

 

"Hey." Iris whispers, head lolling in the passenger seat. "Thanks for coming." 

 

Barry shrugs and tries not to look right into her eyes. The staring would be weird. 

 

"Always."

 

Iris closes her eyes, a smile faint on her mouth. And then she yawns. 

 

"Bee Tee Dubs, you look like the weed guy from my Soc class in that outfit. That dude has a soul patch, too. Wake me up when we get there?"

 

"Just for that? You’re sleeping in the car." Iris closes her eyes with a smile on her lips. 

 

Barry spends half of the ride thanking whatever God there is that there's no traffic whatsoever while Iris is glittering and curled up in his passenger seat. You'd think he'd have built up some kind of resistance by now. She looks like a vision until her eyes fly open and she slaps the door handle and Barry has to pull over so she can vomit onto the concrete. A little less of a vision. 

 

He holds her hair while she spits and makes sure she doesn’t get any on her dress, then pushes her water bottle into her hand. Iris chugs, puts her seatbelt back on, and then falls right back asleep. The cap is still off the bottle.

 

When they get back, she’s hard to jostle awake. He knew she would be, but he helps Iris out of the car anyway, letting her grumble while she slumps into him. He keeps her off of her feet until they get to his door and hopes the jingle of his keys doesn't wake Cisco up too much.

 

He doesn't mind when Barry brings Iris over, usually. She's spent the night so many times that Cisco jokes that their third roommate should probably get a key one of these days. 

 

“Fourth” Barry usually corrects him because Cynthia practically lives there too. 

Iris walks in on shaky legs and otherwise moves around Barry's room with an ingrained effortlessness.

 

She goes into Barry's closet and digs through his wardrobe with minimal fumbling so that, even half drunk, she makes as little noise as possible. Cisco's sleep schedule is a wild thing and she knows how thin the walls are. 

 

It takes Barry a moment to realize he's still holding her shoes in his left hand. She's already out of his closet and in the bathroom, presumably tearing herself out of her dress, so he plops them near the door next his own. His worn sneakers almost look comical and gawky next to her shoes. 

 

When Iris comes out of the bathroom, Barry sees she's hijacked his clothes and has her dress looking suspiciously tattered over one arm. He's about to rag on her but she sees the look on his face and punches him in the shoulder. He grins, smug and moves into the restroom. It smells like her a little. Just a faint scent. Barry splashes his face with water and rubs gritty eyes. His anxiety’s gone and replaced by exhaustion and the pressing need to be back in bed.

 

Barry's used to Iris wearing his things. 

 

That doesn't mean his mouth doesn't still get dry when he sees her in his University of Metropolis Summer Science Outreach Camp hoodie and sleep pants that she's folded up near the ankles. He’d gotten that hoodie when he was seventeen but the sleeves still hang over Iris’ hands. He forgets how short she is when she isn't power-walking everywhere in five inch heels.

 

Barry looks somewhere else while she crawls into his bed. He doesn’t think about it either. He busies himself with checking his phone and shoving things on his messy desk around to look for a scarf. She doesn't have anything to tie her hair up with and Barry knows she's going to be cranky about that in the morning.

 

"Wait, wait." he says before lying down next to her and then tugging the hood of his sweatshirt over her head, making sure all of her long hair is stuffed in and then drawing the strings tight. She looks like a cartoon character and it makes him snort.   

 

"Barryyyyyyyyy." she muffles a whispered laugh in his pillow and then kicks him in the shin before wiggling in close. 

 

"My face is gonna get all sweaty." she huffs and then loosens the strings, taking off the hood. 

 

"Uh-huh. I gave you a fix." Barry closes his eyes, feeling a yawn come on. "You’re not allowed to whine in the morning about your hair being ‘a mess’."

 

"Well, maybe if you kept a scarf here-" her voice is a whisper. Barry can feel her breath on his neck. His bed isn't exactly spacious. 

 

"Mmm. Maybe if you left one here." he says just because they can't ever let each other win.   

 

"Yeah, yeah. Night, Bear."

 

“Night, Iris.” 

 

“I want coffee tomorrow.” Iris whispers and then she's out like a light.

 

Barry isn't far behind. 

 

Not two hours later a hiss of "Barry.. Barry. Barryyy." invades his dreams.  

 

Something is shaking his world and Barry pushes at it, annoyed. He's asleep. 

 

"Umnnfmn.. Barry mooooove I gotta pee." 

 

He has enough presence of mind to roll over away from the shakiness. The bed moves, not enough for him to wake up fully, but soon after there's the slap of bare feet on the floor and the creak of a door somewhere. 

 

Barry rolls back over, half aware that something's missing, but mostly interested in defeating the speed god Savitar and protecting Central City.

 

-

 

Iris wakes up so gradually that it could be a whole half an hour process. Maybe longer. She's only really aware of the cold wall her knees are pressed against and then the really, really warm arm wrapped around her middle. The legs pressed up behind hers. The puff of breath against the back of her neck. Her hair, thrown everywhere, and making it impossible to see. 

 

And after she stretches out her body, the  _ horrendous _ headache. 

 

On her back, she faintly registers the sounds of someone leaving the room quietly (probably Cisco), and then the Not Faint sounds of Barry waking up. 

 

He squeezes his arms around her, like Sleeping Barry doesn't want to let go. It's too much while her head is already pounding. A little of it fades the longer she stays still. Unfortunately Barry is moving, the traitor. He's awake enough to start snatching his arm from around her like she's cursed and jostling the bed so much Iris wants to punch his stupid, morning-slack face. 

 

"Uuuugugghh." she says to communicate this. 

 

"Headache?" he asks. Barry's voice is scratchy-deep like it always is when he first wakes up.

 

"Mmmmmnn uuughh." Iris confirms, burying herself in his bed. The pillow she was just sleeping on feels flat and gross now, so she turns into him instead, pushing her head into his chest. Barry's warm and smells good enough that it distracts from her thunderous headache for a couple minutes. 

 

"Joe’ll kill me for asking but... you want coffee?" he whispers and Iris wants to kill him for making sound come out of his mouth but also wants to have his babies after actually registering what he's said. 

 

"......car’mel?" 

 

"Shot of caramel." he confirms. 

 

Barry gets up, displacing all of the good heat and making Iris flop over to leech the warmth of his spot. She's reveling in it when he mumbles something about his pants being in the middle of the floor. Iris remembers how she kicked them off of her legs in the middle of the night.  

 

"It was really hot last night. And my legs were getting sweaty. I was overheating so I just-" Iris rambles defensively. She’s always hated the fact that she literally cannot work her way through embarrassment without spouting at least 400 words.

 

Barry nods absently, picking them up and slipping them on easily. Iris can tell he's still half asleep. "Be right back, yeah?"

 

The legs are still cuffed. He looks ridiculous.    

 

"Yep. Thank you. Yes." 

 

Barry leaves and Iris rolls her eyes at herself, burrowing into his warm spot. He doesn’t even care about seeing her pantsless so she doesn’t know why she was being weird. More importantly, alcohol last night was such a bad idea.  

 

"Nice going, West." she mumbles. 

  
  


-

  
  


On his walk, Barry swings his keys just to have something to do and then wonders what it’s going to take to stop thinking about her legs and her thighs and the way she turned in his arms. He shouldn’t want to wake up like that every day. He's been so cool about his thing with Iris lately, no matter what Cisco says. But this is-

 

Barry rubs at his face. It's not like this is the first time they’ve been close. After all, they did shower in the same bathroom for ten years. 

 

But it's still different.

 

It's different because they're not kids bumping around each other, embarrassing in the way that everything is when you're fourteen.  It's different because she's not holding a bottle of eczema cream over her legs and shrieking while Barry covers his eyes with a gasp and chokes on the over-perfumed air. 

 

It's different because he’s actually past puberty and it's Iris, waking up in his bed, in his clothes, in his arms.

 

It’s just different. 

 

Barry gets through the front door and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to deter his oncoming hardness. And then he stupidly thinks about the fact that Iris was very obviously not wearing panties last night.

 

_ Jesus _ . 

 

So they're close. 

 

It’s just one of those things. They're weird with each other, everyone says, and so what? He isn't going to jeopardize what he has with Iris just because his heart and dick can't get with the program. Everything is fine. Sometimes Iris goes commando in a tight dress and then sleeps in his bed, in his clothes. That's fine. 

 

Barry cracks his neck and orders. The barista is fast and winks at him as he hands the coffee over. Barry smiles at him in thanks, distracted.

 

Iris still isn't sitting up when he gets back, but Cisco's in the room, sitting at Barry’s desk now with stolen cafe goods and they're conversing even with Iris' face muffled by a pillow. She’s wearing a pair of his shorts now, which Barry is going to ignore. It’s objectively cute, but that’s not important. 

 

"I'm just saying, night classes are a whole other realm of buckwild." Cisco is saying. "Caitlin and I are taking Phys Chem and it ends at ass-o-clock in the morning so everyone's really on edge all the time. Last week, this girl Paulie pulled a can of Monster out of her bag before she peeled an entire kiwi, squeezed the juice from it into that bad boy, and just downed it." 

 

"Eww" Iris groans into Barry’s pillow. "Oh my god, Cisco."

 

"It's like living in the darkest timeline every Thursday at eleven." 

 

"I've been meaning to ask," Barry says, throwing his keys on his desk "why are you taking that, again?" 

 

He and Cisco share a fistbump while Iris shoots up and makes grabby hands in the air for her coffee. 

 

"Lost a bet with that douche, Hartley." 

 

"Oh my god, stop making bets with him." Barry says, climbing into bed. He half-heartedly snatches the coffee away from Iris every time she reaches for it until she crowds him against the wall and punches him in the shoulder and he laughs. 

 

"My honor was on the line, Barracuda." Barry rolls his eyes. Next to him, Iris sits back and hums happily. "Besides," Cisco continues. “This is all part of my grand plan to humiliate and shame Rathaway into another major and eventually, another school." 

 

"Uhh, losing and taking Darkest Timeline Phys Chem is a part of the grand plan?" Iris asks and Barry laughs when Cisco shoots her a look of betrayal. 

 

"Whatever. There will be a reckoning." Cisco promises, steepling his hands like an evil, dedicated mastermind. "But before then- who is up for Abominable Snowman/Santa Claws double feature tonight? I mooched some of that good popcorn from Cynthia's sister and we're gonna do it big in the Engineering Club lounge."

 

Before Barry can respond, Cisco waves him off. 

 

"This is mostly directed at you, Iris, since Barry is contractually obligated to join me. Friendship clause number 48: Don't ever leave me movie-hanging."  

 

Iris cheeses hard against the lid of her coffee cup and scratches at her head before confessing that she in fact, cannot make it. 

 

"I know it's a Sunday hang but I went way too hard last night and I've got so much shit to get the jump on tonight. SCU gazette pages will not write themselves." she sighs and takes a long sip. "God, also have you seen my hair right now?? Rain check." 

 

"Booooo!" Cisco cups his hands and yells and Barry tries to ignore feeling put out. 

 

"Leaving me high and dry? I knew it. You only use me for coffee." he complains. They're sitting side by side on the bed, legs folded, and her knee is atop his with his hand draped over it. They look like Jenga pieces stacked atop each other. 

 

"Aww," she coos and loops an arm up around his shoulder. "don't worry. You don't need me. Cisco will be there to drag you when the spicy popcorn makes you cry. Everything’s fine."

 

Barry rolls his eyes while Iris laughs and Cisco declares that to be 'facts'. 

 

“Ugh, I changed my mind. Go somewhere.” 

 

She's still wearing his hoodie. The sleeves droop over her fingers. Her hair, as predicted, looks all tangled and puffed up where she slept on it. She smells like him and coffee, and still Bacardi a little bit and Barry... loves her. 

 

Later, after he’s has mustered up the energy to drive her to SCU's campus and back, Barry jumps into bed with his overly expensive calculator and laptop and Cisco, as routine, gives him so much shit. 

 

"Oh my God." he says. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Are you serious? This is so bad. It's gotten even worse. I didn't even think that was possible, but here we are."

 

"What are you talking about?" Barry squints. 

 

"I'm talking about City of West-Allen, population: 2." 

 

"Here we go." Barry mutters as he settles in. He has a set of derivatives from his Calc class he's been avoiding and he's heard this lecture enough that he can afford to only half-listen while he stares at his screen. 

 

"Yes." Cisco is saying. "Here we do go, because if I have to watch you two be any more in love and any more oblivious i'm gonna give up the ghost. I mean, look at me and Cynthia."

 

Cisco starts counting off on his fingers. "We share clothes, we share coffee, we share my Princess Bride DVD, and we share our hearts. You and Iris share all of those things already. In fact, y'all practically  _ invented _ sharing those things, so what is up man?"

 

"You don't share a Princess Bride DVD." Barry murmurs distractedly. His laptop is making a concerning noise. "She stole that from you and you've been trying to get it back for like three months."

 

"Be that as it may," Cisco allows "you won't distract me with betrayals of the past. C'mon man, what gives? Why won't you just tell her how you feel?" 

 

Nothing gives. Barry sighs and scrubs at his face. 

 

"There's nothing to tell, Cisco." It sounds so pathetic coming out of his mouth that even he pauses for a second. 

 

"Wow, don't ever go for theatre." Cisco advises. "You can't even lie to yourself. Damn." 

 

Barry tosses the wrinkled  _ Um- The Element Of Confusion _ shirt hanging on the end of his bed at Cisco's head. Iris bought it for him last year at the STEM fair on her campus. Barry had groaned and told her that if she bought him a  _ Bazinga _ shirt next she was dead to him. 

 

Cisco doesn't bother catching it. He just tips his chair to the left and it falls neatly onto the ground as he keeps talking.

 

"Seriously man, this isn’t going to end well. If you guys keep doing this without talking about it, the two of you are going to implode. Your Golden Couple shtick is going to blow up and incinerate everyone in a three mile radius."

 

“You’re the only one that calls us that.” 

 

“All jokes aside, dude, you can’t you think this is gonna end well.” 

 

"Cisco, come on man. It’s Iris. It’s just Iris. We’re good together already. I never have to try. She's like the easiest person to be around and it's been that way since we were kids."

 

"Yes yes, I'm aware of your codependency. But what's gonna happen Barry, if she gets serious about someone and it isn't you?"   

 

The question corners Barry almost physically, making his chest tighten with something ugly before he forces himself to exhale.

 

"I don't know." Barry admits. He’s never said any of this out loud. Someone else. Someone serious. There had been Eddie in high school, who annoyed Barry beyond belief with the way he'd monopolize Iris' time and then Kayla whose constant presence made Barry realize how he felt about Iris in the first place, but not anyone else Real since then. 

 

"I don't know." he repeats. The jealousy curled in his chest isn’t fair to either of them. 

 

“It doesn’t matter man. I just want her to be happy.”

 

He stares at his screen.

 

_ Let  _ **_c_ ** _ be a constant and let the limits  _ **_limx→a f(x)_ ** _ and  _ **_limx→a g(x)_ ** _ exist _ ., it tells him sympathetically. 

 

He's still trying not to let the question bother him a week later while he's buried in his Chem notes in the library. His head is hurting a little and Barry doesn't even realize he's thinking of facetiming Iris until he's already pulling up her contact.

The picture is of them at the Central City Art Museum for the spacetime exhibit. Barry's pretending to shield himself from the shine of Iris' golden dress and facepaint. She'd dressed up as the sun for a chance at winning the costume contest even though Barry had told her twice that he was pretty sure it was for kids. He'd been wrong and she still hadn't won, but Barry took so many pictures that day that his phone ran out of storage. In the contact photo, she's holding herself up with an arm around Barry's neck and beaming so hard it must hurt her cheeks. Her smile, even behind a tiny screen, makes him want to smile right back.  

 

Barry doesn't hit call. 

 

Maybe Cisco is right. 

 

As he's digging through the mess of his backpack, a gentle knock comes on the door to the quiet room. Barry blinks and then checks his phone again. He's pretty sure he blocked off the entire hour. The door opens and Barry recognizes one of the librarians that works this floor. 

 

"Patricia. Hey. Sorry, did someone need the room or..?" 

 

"Barry." she says with a small wave. Barry doesn't know her but she was nice enough when he asked questions at the desk. 

 

"Hey." 

 

"Hi! I was- I thought maybe you were taking a break and I thought I'd come in and say hi. I've- you know, I've just seen you around here a lot and I thought maybe- you know, if like, you wanted to we could go get some Coldstone or like, coffee or whatever, maybe-" 

 

Barry vaguely feels his eyebrows moving further and further up his forehead the longer she talks. 

 

"I- um." 

 

Patricia, already nodding, pushes a strand of hair back behind one ear and he can tell that she's about to accept his incoming rejection.

 

And then, after curbing his immediate instinct, Barry thinks that maybe this isn't such a bad idea. 

 

"Actually," he starts. "that sounds nice, Patricia."

 

Her eyes light up, startled. She smiles. It's a nice smile. 

 

"Patty." she tells him. "Everyone calls me Patty, actually." 

 

"Fun." Barry says. 

 

"That's me." Patty wiggles her head a little. "Fun." 

 

He laughs because it's cute and a little dorky, which would probably be his type if he had one. 

 

"Coffee is how I’m going to survive midterms." he says. "So that’d be pretty good for me. What time are you off?" 

 

“Sadly, ridiculously late. I’m night shift lead today, so i’m off at midnight.” 

 

Patty tells him the Jitters down by the history building is open twenty-four hours and Barry knows that already because Iris drags him there all the time when she's craving her caffeine and the cafe is closed, but he doesn't tell her that. 

 

He goes back to the dorm for a nap and tries not to feel guilty when he sees one of Iris' scarves hanging off of the back of his desk chair. He shouldn't feel guilty. They're not together. 

 

Barry punches his pillow into something comfortable and groans into it before settling. 

 

He’s almost asleep when his phone starts vibrating. He barely registers tapping the green icon before leaning his phone up against the wall and burrowing back into his pillow. 

 

“Barryyyyy.” Iris moans. “I just bombed a Farsi quiz and I can’t even go back home to sleep off my shame because I have to turn in that stupid chem lab in like half an hour. Please tell me something good happened to you today.”

 

“Mmmmmph.” he groans and Iris laughs through the screen. It makes his mouth turn up, even half-asleep. 

 

“You’re sleeping!” she accuses. He’s trying at least. Barry sighs into his pillow. 

 

“You know when you sleep this early, you stay up too long and get all grumpy and call me at like five in the morning.” 

 

Barry picks his head up to glare at her. Iris is walking somewhere with a jumbo coffee cup in her hand and her hair is loose the way Barry likes. She has on lipstick that’s not purple or red but somewhere in between. He wants to ask why she looks so good, but even sleep-addled he knows that’s a bad idea. 

“You don’t know that.” he says pitifully. He just wants to  _ sleep _ .

 

“I do. But you’re still gonna do it.”

 

“Hell yeah.” he mumbles. She knows him so well. Barry closes his eyes a little. 

 

“Nope nope nope.” Iris yells and Barry groans again. “If you go to sleep on me right now, I’m telling Cisco he can use your desk for that fermentation idea he had a like a month ago.”

 

“Mmm.” Barry says, cracking his eyes open a little bit. “Then I’m telling Linda to set you up with the weed guy from your sociology class.” 

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not.” Barry cracks his eyes open a little bit more and then groans again, but not out of exhaustion. “Iris. You’re not wearing a coat.” 

 

She grins and moves the phone so that Barry can see her entire outfit, and does a little twirl that makes Barry dizzy. 

 

“NOPE.” 

 

Her shoulders are bare. Barry can see that it’s snowing. He sighs.

 

“Why do you do this? You’ll get sick.”

 

“I will not get sick, Barry Allen. You know why?”

 

“If you say it, I’m hanging up and going to sleep.” 

 

Iris grins. 

 

“Barry Allen, a ho never gets-”

 

Barry groans loudly to cover his own laughter. “You look like you should be distracting James Bond, but I’m not bringing you tea or Vaporub when you get sick. And you  _ always _ get sick.”     

 

Barry isn’t exaggerating. She really does look movie-worthy. And she really does get sick every time. The dress is knitted and skin-tight. Barry’s glad he isn’t with her because this seems like the kind of outfit that would make him stupid and clumsy while walking behind her. She’s wearing a thick scarf that Joe’s D.A. friend made for her. Barry has a matching one somewhere in the back of his closet. 

 

“If you stop bringing me tea, I’m never making mac and cheese for you again. Anyway stop whining and tell me how your day was.”  

 

“Aced that criminal justice test.” 

 

“Showoff.” Iris interjects. 

 

Barry smiles. “Cisco’s in his nightmare class so I was gonna nap before you started harassing me.”

 

Iris makes a kiss-y face at him and graciously says “you’re very welcome.” 

 

“There’s an internship Wells is opening up at his company.” 

 

“Ugh, that guy is so creepy. I know you want in anyway. You probably already applied.” 

 

Barry hums in confirmation. “Caitlin says hi.” 

 

“I say hi back.”

 

“The librarian asked me out.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling her this. 

 

“Oh no, how’d she take it?” Iris asks, because  _ that’s _ how hung up on her Barry is. He hasn’t dated since their freshman year. 

 

“Actually, I uhh, I said yes.” Barry doesn’t know why he feels awkward about this. 

 

“Oh.” Iris looks startled and embarrassed in a way Barry hasn’t seen in a long time. She looks at something else, maybe some trees or a car passing by, but she doesn’t look at Barry when she speaks. “That’s nice. So what’s the plan? What’s she like?” 

 

“She’s pretty cool so far. We haven’t really talked that much but she’s nice. Kinda dorky.” 

 

“You two already have so much in common, then.” Barry rolls his eyes and continues. 

 

“We’re going to that Jitters by the history building that you keep trying to set up house in. I swear everyone in there knows your name. Do they know you don’t even live here?”

 

At the mention of ‘Jitters’, Iris’ face lights up and Barry gets ready to listen to her beg for a pack of cronuts and one of those Christmas mugs they’re selling for the next ten minutes. She goes into a list of reasons why she deserves all of those things and possibly even a Jitters hat if they’re still selling that one up on the wall. 

 

Barry promises that if she nails the Farsi midterm he’ll shell out the cash for it and Iris puts on a look of determination that means Barry needs to get ready to deliver on his end of the deal. He ignores what that look makes him feel.

 

They talk about holiday plans and agree that going home and getting full on noodles and turkey and the bits of Grandma Esther’s eggnog they can sneak past Joe is pretty much mandatory. Last year they’d both skipped out on going home in the name of being overachievers, but this year they’re both pretty sure Joe will drive up if they even think about ditching again. Iris tells Barry that Wally called her and begged for help sneaking some guy out of the house again so they both have solid blackmail material now if they need it. Barry tells Iris that Caitlin is bugging him about getting into that article on medical ‘cure-all’ research that Iris’ friend Ronnie is writing at SCU’s paper.   

 

And after that Iris gives up on keeping him awake for any longer, saying that he better go ahead and get some rest then if he wants to be up to bug her later. Barry smiles and tells her that this is why he loves her and Iris says goodbye with coffee in her mouth. Barry settles into sleep easily. 

 

He wakes up late. 

 

Like, catastrophically late. 

 

_ 12:52p.m.  _ his watch reads. Patty's going to kill him. 

 

It takes him all of fifteen minutes to look like a presentable human being going on a date and not like the famed Dorm Troll going down to the lobby for snacks from the vending machines. Patty's waiting outside the library with a worried look that makes Barry feel twice as bad when he finally shows up. 

 

"I was starting to think you ditched me, Barry Allen." she says. She doesn't look as mad as she probably should. Barry knows he’s lucky. 

 

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I tried to grab a quick nap and totally lost track of time."

 

"I forgive you this time." 

 

Barry hears the implied ‘ _ this won’t happen again’ _ and agrees. 

 

The date is nice. Patty is funny and sweet and tells him about her major (Criminal Justice) and her dad (her hero, died in a homicide) and how she thought Barry was really cute when he tripped over that raised outlet on the fifth floor of the library today. Barry sinks back into his chair and says “oh god” and tells her he’s studying chemistry but he isn’t sure what he wants to do with it. He tells her about Cisco and Caitlin and Iris and how actually, while he’s here, he should buy Iris this mug that looks like a snowman wearing a tophat. 

 

“Iris has a coffee habbit. I’m guilty of supplying her.” he confesses when he’s bought four cronuts, the mug, and a funky pink hat that proclaims _IT’S_ _JITTER TIME._

 

“I can see why!” Patty says excitedly when she’s handed her frappuccino with enough whipped cream that its been styled into a tiny castle on top of her drink. Barry orders the same thing he does every time: a spicy hot chocolate with a cinnamon bun. He eats the outside as usual and tries to give Patty the center but she declines. 

 

“That’s so weird, you know, I only eat the outside too!” Barry smiles and shrugs. Iris usually eats the center. 

He drives her home after, stands at the front of the apartment building where she lives off-campus and ignores the nosy woman on the third floor leaning out of her window to watch the two of them. 

 

“Well. Goodnight, Barry. I had a great time.” Patty says and flashes him a gorgeous smile. She leans in and he leans in and it’s certainly a moment. 

 

She’s going for a kiss and he’s going for a hug and it’s a little awkward until she snorts a laugh and they get it together. He closes his eyes and lets himself kiss her. It’s nice, actually. Patty’s lips are warm. She tastes like coffee. 

 

He leaves after making sure she gets in safely and goes home completely awake even though it’s about three in the morning. There’s no telltale heavy snoring when Barry gets in and he understands why as soon as he sees the note that Cisco’s left taped to the inside of the door. 

 

**_@ cynthia’s don’t wait up_ **

 

Barry realizes his phone probably died in the car on the way home. He only lasts one shower, two pages of a paper due next Monday, and 15 minutes of  _ The Martian  _ before he gives in and takes his phone off the charger to call Iris. 

 

She picks up on the second ring with a groan that makes Barry grin before her face even comes into view. 

 

“I knew it. I  _ knew _ it. I  _ told  _ you you’d be up until for-fucking-ever if you went to sleep that early.” 

 

“Yeah, you were right. You know what sucks? There is never anything open at three a.m. on this campus. Do you know how much I am starving right now?” 

 

“Didn’t you just eat on your date? How’d that go by the way?” 

 

Barry’s distracted when he realizes what she’s wearing is kind of familiar. 

 

“It was fine. That wasn’t real food- hey is that my sweater?”

 

Iris blinks about a million times, which she only does when she’s about to lie. 

 

“What? No. I got this, like, forever ago. Focus up! Tell me about the date, Smooth Moves.” 

 

“Alright, liar. Fine it was- it was nice. Patty’s really cool. She’s studying criminal justice. Oh, I got you a cinnabon. The part I didn’t eat, at least.” 

 

“The middle? Gimme!” she makes a pouty face at the screen and Barry’s got leverage now. “I hope you guys got a little more in depth than ‘nice’ and each other’s majors.” 

 

“We did. She’s like- got a whole thing. Hey, come over and get this cinnabon.” 

 

“Now?” Iris sucks her teeth and groans. “I knew you were gonna beg for something. You get so clingy when you stay up.”

 

Barry laughs and the “I miss you.” slips out so naturally that he doesn’t even register it until Iris face softens and she says “I miss you, too.”

 

Her hair is pulled back and she’s bathed in the cold blue light of a laptop screen. She’s got on her prescription glasses, the ones she hates and thinks are ugly, and that has to be his dumb  **CHEM CLUB DOES IT BETTER** sweater from his senior year of high school that he’s pretty sure rocks a mustard stain he couldn’t get out. But she still makes his mouth dry. The silence lingers for too long, both of them staring too intently, and Barry clears his throat. 

 

“Yeah-” Iris looks around and he hears the shuffle of papers, “yeah, okay I’ll come over. You’re picking me up though, because my engine light’s still coming on.”

 

“Didn’t Joe-”

 

“No, not yet. Dad’s got enough on his plate anyway with Wally and Cecile.” 

 

“Cecile? Like, Lawyer Cecile?”

 

“Yeah. Did you not hear? They’re dating now. It’s a thing.” 

 

“Wow, that’s nice. Hope she stops him from eating himself into kidney damage by the time we get back for Christmas.” 

 

Iris huffs, “God, don’t remind me. I had to call in for an intervention the last time Wally told me they were having baby back ribs for the third night in a row. Also, Bear, if you get him another free month of steak dinners at that one place in Bludhaven for Christmas this year, I’m actually going to kill you.”

 

She starts walking around her room, stuffing her silky-looking duffel bag with overnight clothes. Sometimes she forgets that the camera should be on her face and Barry gets an eyeful of whatever she’s doing at the time. 

 

He catches a glimpse of a bra in her hand as she pushes down. Red. Cotton.     

 

Barry muffles a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay. I deserve that. Cisco’s out tonight.”

 

He can hear her yawn.

 

“Pushing up on Cynthia again?” 

 

“Mhmm. Hey, bring a scarf to leave here this time.” 

 

“Nice save.”

 

“Yeah, sure. Be there in thirty?” 

 

“Better hope I don’t fall asleep before you get heeeeere.” she sings. 

 

“I’ll just wake you up.” 

 

Iris sticks her tongue out and then hangs up and Barry grabs his thickest hoodie and car keys. 

 

She’s still awake when he gets there even though he can tell she’s barely hanging on and she grunts at him when he takes her overnight bag to put it in the back seat. He stops them for takeout on the way back because he wasn’t kidding about starving. Iris makes some vague hand motions when he asks what she wants and he figures that means her usual-

 

A large cherry coke and freedom to pick off of whatever Barry’s already eating.

 

She doesn’t fall asleep on the ride back, but her eyes are lidded and she lets him play NPR without complaint and doesn’t even protest when he carries her bag for her on the elevator. She has to be exhausted. Barry is sincerely trying to not find her sexy when Iris kicks off her boots and walks towards his bed, crooking her finger for him to follow with the food. He’s still got red cotton in the back of his mind. It’s a god test. 

 

She settles and pulls open his laptop, declaring that they are watching Home Alone while they eat, whether he likes it or not, because Kevin is “her baby” and if he’s the one making her stay up, she gets Deciding Privilege.

 

Iris picks at his chili fries and scrapes up all the cheese that she can and he tries to poke at her thieving fingers until some of the cheese drops off because  _ hey-  _ he bought that ‘cause he’s  _ hungry _ . She’s too fast and ends up lifting a good sixty percent of his fries. It’s fine, though. Barry bought enough burgers and onion rings to tide him over anyway. Iris slurps at her coke while he scarfs down enough food for three people on his own and when his mouth isn’t full, he reminds her about how she always says she’s going to give up pop because her skin breaks out every time. 

 

“SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” Iris says loudly and smothers his lips with one hand and that devolves into Barry licking her palm and her shrieking and laughing loud enough to wake up the neighbors next door. 

 

They settle by the time Kevin tricks the pizza boy with his movie sound effects and Barry doesn’t have to look over to know that Iris is mouthing the words. She’s starting to really fight sleep when the last of Kevin’s pranks on the burglars run out and he knows because her head keeps slipping onto his shoulder. 

 

“Okay.” he pauses the movie and nudges her up, ignoring her glare. They shuffle into the bathroom together and Iris uses the spare toothbrush she keeps in there. She makes Foam Mouth at Barry like she always does and he flicks water at her like he always does. Iris leaves him to shower and change, probably planning to starfish and hog the entire bed while he can’t stop her. 

 

He’s right of course; that’s exactly what she does. 

 

Instead of them keeping to their sides of the bed when he crashes, Iris curls up against him, leaning her head on his chest with a heavy yawn. 

 

“G’night, Bear.”

 

Barry swallows and closes his eyes. 

 

“‘Night, Iris.” 


	2. virtues uncounted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can feel you looking at me.” he says.
> 
>  
> 
> “You’re very look-worthy.” she points out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [shania twain voice] let's go girls!

Four hours of sleep, unsurprisingly, does not treat Iris or Barry well. They both wake up disoriented and flailing when Barry’s alarm goes off. Her silk scarf is slipping, there’s drool on his shirt that Barry hopes is from her, and he has a light headache. Iris paws around his sheets until she finds his phone and then fumbles with it until the alarm stops blaring.

 

They both fall back asleep within seconds.

 

An hour later, they’ve shifted during unconsciousness and Barry wakes to find himself halfway down the bed with Iris up on his pillows. His head is buried in her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist and feet dangling off of the bed. Iris’ hands cradle his head, that is until his alarm breaks the quiet again. She wiggles and slaps around the covers for the phone again and Barry groans loudly when he hears it clatter between the bed and the wall to the floor.

 

Barry has no choice but to sit up, rub at his eyes, lean over Iris to dig his phone out-

 

-and realize how fucking late he is going to be.  

 

“ _Shit_.” he groans and Iris blinks up at him, frowning the way she does when she can’t really see.

 

He _seriously_ hates his Law and Soc class. Nine-thirty a.m. was reasonable, he’d told himself while registering.

 

It isn’t. It isn’t at all.

 

“Late?”

 

“Yeah.” he’s already falling out of the bed in haste, fumbling under the bed for his phone.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“My fault.” Barry says, running to the bathroom. He’s still half asleep while he brushes his teeth in the shower the way Iris absolutely _hates_ and doesn’t even really look at the clothes he puts on after sniffing a couple of things to make sure they’re clean.

He’s about to grab his keys and run out but deliberates for a second before jogging back to his bed. She’s already crawling over the covers to reach his desk and blindly swipe for her glasses.  

 

“Iris?”

 

She settles them on her face, turns on her phone, and looks up. Barry can tell she’s still not functionally awake yet.  

 

“Wha-?” she yawns.

 

“You need the keys or are you staying?”

 

She shakes her head, making a _‘go! go!’_ motion with her hand.

 

“Mmm. G’nna go back to sleep, take ‘em.”

 

Barry is already tripping out of the door by the time she says ‘take’ and yells a “Later!” while he hurries out. Thank fucking God this lecture is only three blocks away.

 

He could swear he hears a faint _‘Bye, babe’_ as he locks up but Barry also isn’t even sure he’s wearing his own pants right now. He’s probably still dreaming.

 

He spends the first fifteen minutes of Law and Soc completely out of it, in some slow-paced, weird headspace between sleep and reality. Barry really needs to set a sleep schedule and stick to it. The fog loosens up after a while and he actually starts to take notes on rehabilitation versus punishment in western societies.

 

He gets text about halfway through the lecture from Patty. She has tickets to a Hozier concert that she won at her other job or something. Barry stops slouching in his chair and sends her three thumbs up emoticons and a running man.

 

**_got 2 extras btw!! we can go old school and double up. maybe ask if cisco can invite cynthia?_ **

 

Patty is very gratuitous with the smiley faces and it makes Barry grin. Her happiness is almost infectious sometimes, and he does like Hozier. Cisco plays his music sometimes, when he’s fiddling with his guitar.

 

Bary texts him after the lecture and he sends back so many fire emojis that he has to scroll to get through them, so Barry guesses that’s a yes. Cynthia isn’t into anything that isn’t house music or old blues, apparently, but she says she’ll go according to Cisco.

 

**_cynth is here talking about how cute your gf is sleeping in your bed right now_ **

 

**_she’s asking why i don’t wait 4 her like this when she’s in class_ **

 

Barry ignores the ‘gf’ bit.

 

_unrealistic since i’m pretty sure she knows u only sleep once a month anyway_

_if iris wakes up tell her im gonna be late im getting jitters_

 

Barry considers...

 

_Nvm don’t tell her about the jitters_

 

Cisco sends him five poop emojis and a demand for the new limited edition Candy Cane Lane Iced Latte.

 

_who tf drinks iced coffee in november_

 

**_u couldn’t begin to understand the bounds of my power._ **

 

Barry rolls his eyes. Cisco sends 5 yikes face emojis and a running man while he’s packing his laptop away and shuffling out of his row. Barry frowns.

 

Before he can ask, Iris is facetiming him. He picks up.

 

“Really?” is all she says. She’s still wearing her old glasses.

 

“Yes, really. Cisco, you traitor!” Barry announces the last part loudly. A couple people in the hall pointedly glare and Barry is appropriately shamed. Iris turns the camera so he can see Cisco buried in his phone and throwing up a peace sign, with a pair of feet that must be Cynthia’s in his lap.

 

“I want espresso.” Iris tells him.

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

“Just say you hate me, then.”

 

Barry sighs. “Joe’s orders.” He’d specifically called Barry to make him promise not to support her habit anymore.

 

Her eyes narrow.

 

“You and Dad can’t oppress me like this.”

 

“You can thank us when your heart doesn’t give out at thirty. You’re welcome.” Barry says graciously.

 

“I’ll remember this.” Iris says as menacingly as she can in her Nutty Professor glasses and his gross sweater from high school. She hangs up when he winks.   

 

Barry yawns and starts to jog across the street to where’s parked. The air is biting and by the time he’s heated up the car, Cisco’s sent him two paragraphs of prayer hands and sad-face emojis that make him laugh. He books it to Jitters so he can get back to his warm bed and Iris and her betrayed face when he gives her hot chocolate instead of anything remotely caffeinated.  He might’ve been late for class but it’s a good day.

 

-

 

Iris gets home from Barry’s and deals with the usual booing that happens when she walks through the door in sunglasses over her ugly prescription glasses and a sweater too big for her. She makes a peace sign and poses dramatically against the door while her friends groan and Lena throws a pair of balled up stockings.

 

“It’s because we know you didn’t even get any” she sighs from the couch. She’s curled up with her girlfriend, as usual. Kara is already opening her mouth to deliver a speech on why there’s nothing wrong with her coming from Barry’s so late in the day and how she hopes Iris had a great time and please tell Barry she said hello.

 

None of that actually comes out because Lena interrupts her with a kiss and a “Babe, relax.”

 

This devolves into a lot of dramatic moaning of “Oh, Danvers!” and giggling when Kara dips her girlfriend like they’re in a fairy tale movie.  

 

“No PDA on the communal couch!” Linda calls from the kitchen and Kara giggles again when Lena pulls a face.

 

“And don’t make rude faces, Luthor!”

 

Kara’s jaw drops, always amazed by that.

 

“So how _was_ your night, Miss West?” Lena asks, because she can never let anything drop. Iris thinks she’s going to be a go-getter when she finally gets her hands in her father’s business.

 

Iris pointedly clears her throat and says that her day was _great_ , thank you, even though she was refused coffee and has been cracking yawns every two minutes since she woke up.

 

“He’s finally cutting you off?” Lena touches her chest. “Miracles do happen.”

 

“Who’s finally cutting who off?” Felicity asks, coming out of the kitchen with Linda. She’s deftly carrying a motherboard in her fingers, trying not to touch any of the circuits and wirey bits that are dangling off of it. She’s got a handful of screws in her mouth so that she can carefully manage the motherboard situation. Iris isn’t sure what would happen if she wasn’t so delicate with it, but she doesn’t want to find out.

 

“Iris isn’t going to run on coffee and noodles anymore.”

 

Iris flops down in the armchair next to the couch and yawns. “No one said anything about giving up noodles. Are you building another souped up desktop in the kitchen?”

 

Felicity sniffs. “Mhmm.”

 

Iris nods. She respects the side hustle.  

 

“Noodles are very good.” Kara says loyally.

 

“My grandma makes some that are out of this world.” Iris tells her. She can never get to the pot fast enough when they visit, because Barry will be right behind her, ready to scarf everything down like a hungry factory orphan from the nineteenth century.  

 

“Mmm.” Felicity hums and then spits the screws in her mouth into a cup that Linda holds out.

“Please tell me you are bringing Free Grandma Noodles back here after the break.” Felicity settles on the floor with Linda. “I will be here all alone while you all traipse off across the world to visit people who love you.”

 

Kara’s head tilts and she pushes up her glasses.

 

“Didn’t Ollie invite you back to his parents’ for break?”

 

Felicity squints in quiet rage.

 

“He did.” she mutters. Her grip on the motherboard looks dangerous. Felicity’s relationship with Oliver is a nebulous, ever-changing affair that escapes description (Felicity’s words) so they usually avoid talking about it, but Kara’s friendly and curious nature sometimes doesn’t allow her to read the room.

 

Linda changes the subject, to everyone’s relief.

 

“So who’s gonna be the first to admit that they’re nowhere near done with their pages for tomorrow’s run?”

 

Everyone makes increasingly pitiful sounds except for Kara who they’re all pretty sure is a superhuman with the amount of extracurriculars she takes on and her unfailing ability to keep up with all of them without falling apart. Living together, having the same major, and being on the gazette together means that Lena, Iris, and Linda see each other near constantly and can commiserate over being expected to pump out more words a week than most people do in their entire college careers. Felicity is the odd man out in her engineering major, but she’s still a great housemate and even lets them complain about their professors when they pass Moscato around.

 

Iris has the barest headstart on her gazette work, but she’s behind on a Mass Media Law assignment that makes her want to smother herself when she thinks about it. Predictably, the rest of the day is nothing but writing, writing, writing. Research, research, research. She loves it and hates it at the same time. Iris has always had a lot to say but the formatting takes so much of the fun out of journalism for her. She knows that freelancers and actual adults that work at a real copy get a little more freedom with their style and honestly, she can’t wait to flex. For now she’s stuck editing and re-editing and stripping about seventy percent of her personality from her work.

 

Because she has no coffee in her body, she can’t push herself for as long and she texts Barry a lot of grumpy things about that, to which he responds that she needs to go to sleep anyway. Iris tells him he’s one to talk and then checks the time on her laptop and realizes that he’s definitely right.

 

She doesn’t even make it into the shower before passing out.

 

For Iris, the next week is about surviving the onslaught of tests coming her way. Star City University does early midterms, at least earlier than CCU does, and so Iris finds herself cramming in study sessions with a less harried Barry to keep her calm and watered. He drives over to pop quiz her on the stacks of color-coded flash cards she’s made for every subject. Iris loves color-coding.

 

Barry also brings golden stickers because he thinks he’s funny.

 

Iris starts liking the stickers more than she should, honestly. Every time she parrots something she wrote down weeks ago in her notes perfectly, he smooths a sticker onto her skin. So far, the backs of her hands and her cheeks are covered in tiny lightning bolts.

 

“They didn’t have any stars.” he says apologetically.

 

He wants them to take a break when Iris’ stomach starts growling loud enough for it to be embarrassing, but she wants to keep going. She needs all of this down.

 

“Hey,” Barry says. “You know all this stuff. You already do.”

 

He makes it sound so simple.

 

Barry pops another sticker on her, this time over Iris’ heart. His hand is warm. Iris swallows.

 

“What’s that one for?”

 

He shrugs.

 

“Just ‘cause.”

 

Iris smiles.

 

“You’re a pretty lax professor.”

 

“And you’re an overachiever.”

 

Iris rolls her eyes. “This coming from the boy that tried to build a robot with functional AI at eleven years old”   

 

Barry flops back onto her bed and yawns.

 

“I was trying to impress your dad. Can you blame me?”

 

Iris flops next to him.

 

“Nah. He’s very impress-worthy.”

 

She looks over at him. Barry’s eyes are closed. He has crazy-long lashes up close, she’s always noticed. It’s unfair how long they are. He’s in a black hoodie that’s covering his hair, but Iris wishes it was down. She likes when he doesn’t have time to slick it back. He started doing that in high school and Iris thought it made him look too severe. Barry’s not severe at all.

 

“I can feel you looking at me.” he says.

 

“You’re very look-worthy.” she points out.

 

“You’re delirious.”

 

“I’m sure Patty would agree.” she doesn’t know why she says that. He opens his eyes and turns to look at her. She can’t read what he’s feeling and that’s novel in itself. Maybe surprise.

 

“That you’re delirious? She probably would.”

 

Iris rolls her eyes and then makes a noise that conveys how much effort sitting up is.

 

“Okay. Come on. Food.”

 

They don’t go downstairs to the kitchen for several reasons. For one, Iris can’t cook at the best of times, let alone when she’s burnt out. Secondly, Barry wants Big Belly Burger. He hasn’t said it out loud, but she knows him and it’s obvious. Thirdly, and probably most importantly, Felicity has quarantined the kitchen as a study zone and the last time Iris went in there it was a madhouse of wires, monitors, plastic coverings, and pliers.

 

She drives his car but he pays and as usual Iris balks at how much he’s able to put away. She knows he will, because Barry hates wasting food and he really does run on a nation’s worth of calories. When they get back to her room, she tells him that if he wants to be allowed into her bathroom to shower, he better be prepared to get all of these stickers off of her.

 

It’s a joke because they’ve been itching her skin and peeling just one off scratched so much that she didn’t even try to take the rest off.

 

Barry doesn’t laugh, though. Instead he sets down her food, crowds Iris up against her closed door, and picks her hand up like a knight would a princess.

 

Iris thinks she might be in a fever dream.

 

“Okay.” he says and then starts gently peeling bolts from the back of her hand. _His hands. He has big hands._

 

Iris hates that she has the thought. She hates it even more when she compares their hands, looks at how her thumb is nowhere near the length of his. Barry doesn’t think of her like that, she’s trying to remember. He’s just- this is just him being funny.

 

But when he catches her chin and keeps it still to pull off the bolts on her cheeks, Iris almost bites her lip. God, he’s so tall. She likes tall. She bets he could pick her up if he wanted to- if-

 

Iris blinks when the sting of the stickers coming off helps her focus. Barry must see the discomfort in her face because he smiles apologetically.

 

“I really didn’t know they’d be that sticky.”

 

“Who knew stickers could be sticky?”

 

“You say sticky weird.”

 

“ _You_ say sticky weird.”

 

He’s still holding her chin. Iris takes a breath and smiles.

 

“S’okay.”

 

He pulls away too soon, too late. Iris isn’t sure which. Barry tells her he’s gonna shower now that his debt is paid and also not to eat any of his burgers and _yes_ he counted. She doesn’t, but she picks off of his fries while he’s in there because he didn’t count those. She looks at the index cards scattered on her bed and the balled up stickers Barry has thrown into her little purple garbage pail. She looks at the pile of notes he combed through to recite her own words back to her when she got them wrong. She looks at the order of chili cheese fries he pretended to pick up for himself even though they both know it's really her's. 

 

He’s good to her. She just needs to get over whatever hormonal response he invokes.

 

Whenever Barry stays over, he forgets to bring his own soap and has to borrow hers and Iris loudly complains about how he’s using up all of her expensive soap and then he points out that she should maybe start getting cheaper soap and then she mocks him in a voice most people stopped using in the fifth grade, but-

 

But-

 

A secret is that Iris loves the way he smells when he uses her soap. They go to sleep in her tiny, crappy bed that really isn’t made for anyone over six feet to be sleeping in it and she likes to sniff lightly at the back of his neck, where he smells like twisted peppermint. Like her.

 

-

 

Barry’s life is going great until the date. The concert date starts a snowball of really, really not-great things.

 

It starts off bad, when Barry stupidly makes the decision to invite Iris and Oliver along after Cisco has to cancel. He’s sick and flooding their dorm with NyQuil and tissues, writing on their walls like a misunderstood genius. He’d tried to break Barry’s quarantine four times to escape to the library, until Barry gave up and called Cynthia to deal with him.

 

When she showed up wearing leather everything and carrying soup with a thunderous expression on her face, Cisco had snapped his mouth shut and started listening.

 

No more annoyed “Back off, Allen” and “I’m not even that sick”.

 

Barry is certain she has superpowers.   

 

He reasons that Iris needs the break anyway. She just finished her midterms and had nearly driven herself up the wall with all those index cards and the amount of pages Barry proofread at three in the morning will have him in disbelief for the next ten years. Goddamn, that girl can write.

 

Jitters is packed and it’s obvious that the early midterms rush is hitting at CCU. People are already establishing their territories, staking claims on tables by spreading open binders and slapping down ancient laptops over any available space. The seats are taken and they can’t sit anywhere, so everyone waits for Barry by the door. Oliver’s early for everything the same way Barry can’t manage to be on time ever so he’s obviously annoyed by the time Barry comes crashing into Jitters with a quick “my bad, guys”.

  

Patty looks more worried than anything and asks if she should get him a watch for Christmas as she pecks him on the lips in greeting. Iris teases that it won’t help- Barry could set all the alarms in the world and still keep the apocalypse waiting.

 

He rolls his eyes. She and Joe have been telling that joke for _years_. He tells her so.

 

“That’s ‘cause it never gets old.”

 

“ _You_ never get old.”

 

“Mm. It’s mind over matter, Bear. Also, black don’t crack.”

 

The concert itself is amazing. The after is not. Barry knows enough of Hozier’s music through osmosis that it’s still a fun time. Oliver’s kind of high because he wandered off before the second set and bought overpriced weed from some guy in jodhpurs while Barry, Patty, and Iris shared the same nachos. Iris and Patty get along fine, though usually Iris is more chatty with his friends. He figures she’s just more focused on the venue. She does have a little bit of a crush on the bass guitarist from the opening band, which Barry didn’t know but is obvious from the way Iris looks when she takes the stage.

 

He knows he’s right when Iris screams herself raw when Este Haim makes her infamous ‘bass face’ and Barry gets her water from the bar so that she doesn’t lose her voice. Patty dances with Oliver while he’s clearly tripping and it makes Barry laugh and bump into Iris which makes her look back and laugh too.

 

They head to the bar together and Iris debates getting drunk as hell but then glances back to Oliver looking like a total idiot near the stage and then passes. They both get La Croix and then they spend the next twenty minutes trading their cans back and forth and arguing about what La Croix actually tastes like. After that, the stage lights lower and the venue darkens as the headliner gets ready to perform a love song. The opening guitar is sweet, almost rurally simple.

 

Barry has to clear his throat and it’s too loud in the silence around him. No one is screaming along anymore. Couples have paired off to fold into each other and kiss.

 

Next to him, Iris is swaying. He’s doing everything in his power not to stare.

 

_“I couldn’t utter my love when it counted. Ah, but I’m singing like a bird ‘bout it now.”_

 

Barry’s mouth is dry. Iris is wearing a dress- it’s almost cherry red in this light, and with every sway, the skirt of it swings close enough to brush Barry’s pants. He bites his lip. Barry’s so busy trying to look at anything else that he doesn’t notice her leaning up at first.

 

Then Iris is cupping a hand around his ear and asking if he remembers the first school dance they went to. Barry’s cheeks sear. Of course he does. Before Joe even took him in Barry had been to his first school dance.

 

He remembers his mother took an embarrassing amount of pictures and he remembers that he danced with Iris because the second she saw Bruce Colby picking on him, she had marched up to Barry and grabbed his hand to pull him onto the dance floor.

 

“You were so nervous!”

 

Barry rolls his eyes and then leans down to cup her ear.

 

“I wasn’t nervous. I had an enormous wedgie from a fifth grade bully and I was trying not to let the pretty girl with her arms around my neck know that.”

 

Iris laughs. He thought he'd done a pretty good job of masking that energy. 

 

“I remember you kept looking down to make sure you weren't stepping on my feet. You were so short!” she crows.

 

He snorts, pointedly eyeing the top of her head and she bumps his hip with hers to shut him up. They’re huddled up so they don’t have to keep yelling or getting in each other’s ears and Barry thinks that color red on her lips is devastating.

 

“You look great.” he tells her.

 

She tugs at the collar of his sweater. “You look nice, too. We’re talking waist-up only though, Bear.”

 

He rolls his eyes. She has made her opinion on his Khakis Date Look very clear.

 

Iris lays her head on his shoulder and for the rest of the song, they sway together, side by side. Patty winks at them from near the stage and he waves. He thinks everything’s going great. He’s an idiot.

 

After they all part ways, Patty tells him the night was kind of weird not because his friend with the attitude problem got high in the middle of it and started loudly fucking up lyrics, but because this was supposed to be a date and Oliver paid more attention to her than he did. Barry feels like a total fuck-up when he realizes she’s right.

 

He hadn’t even checked on Patty, really, beyond cursory looks and smiles. Whenever he bothered to pay attention to her, he’d figured she was having fun with Oliver. The entire ride to the concert, he and Iris spent joking around with each other. Then, at the concert, the two of them spent most of their time huddled up and goofing off together. This was exactly what he was supposed to be avoiding.

 

“I’m so sorry, Patty.”

 

She looks uncomfortable, which he gets because she’s the one that had to even point it out. Jesus.

 

He spends the rest of the night making it up to her. He takes Patty to the park for a walk and they talk about how she wishes Hozier would’ve done some covers because she loves his voice, but how amazing everything else was. They talk about how when Patty got the tickets she was going to give them away at first because actually, she doesn’t usually like popular music. She’s a glam rock and metal girl, through and through, but she’s glad she went with him tonight anyway.

 

“I’m glad I went with you, too.” and he is, really.

 

That night, she asks him up to her room and he meets her housemates. The one named Diana is taller than him and looks like she could actually kick his ass the way she says she will if he breaks Patty’s heart.

 

“My walls are really thick.” Patty tells him when they get to her room.

 

That’s how he spends the entire night going down on his girlfriend and hoping she forgets he was the worst date ever earlier in the evening.   

 

-

 

Midterms are the peak of his stress due to several factors. First, Barry thinks that group work assignments during a time like this are demonic and should be outlawed. His new guy doesn’t seem like a flake, but Barry worries that Clark will pull the rug out from under him at any minute because it’s happened before and he had to recreate an entire experiment last year _by himself_ in the library while running on both hope and a prayer.

 

Second, Patty tries to come over and help him study near-constantly, but he isn’t sure how to tell her that she isn’t helping and that he just ends up getting distracted trying to entertain her, which only makes him more stressed that he’s wasting time. He can sense that he’s pushing her away even more with his manic behavior, which makes him even more stressed because she doesn’t deserve that from him. It’s only been a month and still somewhere, someone is printing a World’s Shittiest Boyfriend sash just for him.

 

Third, winter break is coming up and though Joe, Iris, and recently Wally have all done their best to distract him each year, it means one more year without seeing his parents at Christmas. This is especially prevalent in his mind with the knowledge that in fourteen days, Barry will receive a motion from the judge of his father’s case over whether his appeal has been accepted or not. It’s been three months since he submitted.

 

He knows he’s irritable. He knows that Cisco’s been giving him looks for wearing the same dark clothes for too long and generally looking miserable around everyone when they all hang out to study together. The only person Barry can think of sadder than himself right now is Caitlin, who looks like death warmed over whenever they all meet up. She cheers up just barely whenever Patty comes around, but Barry really can’t blame her for not being able to pull off the facade.

 

Caitlin’s father died around this time. She doesn’t talk about it much, so that’s really all the information Barry has, but he knows they were close, and he understands so he doesn’t push her about interacting with them. He does offer her a hug when they stand in line at the Commissary in their building. He gets string cheese cravings when he’s stressed.

 

Barry doesn’t know if it’s her or Cisco that calls Iris over when he gets the letter.

 

**_This letter confirms the dismissal of the appeal put forth by Bartholomew Henry Allen to the Ninth Judicial Circuit Court in the case of The State of Illinois v. Henry Allen._ **

 

Barry doesn’t cry but he turns off his phone, goes to bed, and doesn’t get out of it.

 

He guesses he should feel relieved that he’s already taken all of his tests by the time he gets the letter, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t differentiate time. All he knows is that for a long while, he’s alone and then Iris is there. People talk to him in between these moments, but it just feels like he’s underwater or half-asleep. Barry doesn’t respond. Not until he hears her voice.

 

He’s on his side with the covers pulled up to his chin, frozen in the same position he’s been in for- he doesn’t know how long, when someone touches his shoulder. Not someone. Her.

 

“Barry? Oh, Barry.”

 

This isn’t the first time she’s seen him like this.

 

Iris cards a hand through his hair, but Barry doesn’t move or speak. He’s so tired.

 

She talks to someone else for a minute, probably Cisco, and then she’s shifting the bed, climbing in with him. Barry doesn’t move while she situates next to him.

 

“I’m here.” is all she says. “I’m here.”

 

Barry closes his eyes.  

 

Iris is there when he wakes up. For once, she’s awake before him. She’s playing a pattern game on her phone for a bit before she realizes he’s awake at all, then she’s turning and running a hand through his hair again. He knows it’s probably gross. He hasn’t washed it since he was at her place probably. She keeps doing it anyway.

 

It feels nice, which breaks through the monotony of him not feeling anything at all.

 

Barry isn’t sure he wants that, because feeling again means dealing with the letter. He squeezes his eyes shut again. He doesn’t realize his breathing is picking up until Iris starts humming. She says all the time that she can’t carry a tune, but it’s a lie.

 

It’s the same song she used to hum to him as a kid, when Barry first moved into the West house and couldn’t sleep, so Iris would cross the hall and hold him. He doesn't know the name of it.

 

“I believe you.” she used to whisper to him, and that’s always what this song has meant to Barry.

 

His shoulders shake. It’s an unavoidable side effect of the way the tears wrack through him. He’s big enough that it makes her shake too, makes the whole bed shake. Barry feels cleaved in half, like someone took the same knife they used to split him all those years ago and did the job again. Old wounds are opening back up.

 

Iris doesn’t stop, even when he’s probably ruining her clothes, the way he’s crying on her.

 

“You don’t have to be okay.” she says and he breaks again. It feels like that’s all he can do.

 

He cries long enough that when he runs out of tears he feels sleepy again. Iris doesn’t let him, makes him sit up and drink water. He almost teases her about having water onhand and not coffee, but he doesn’t have the energy. He drinks most of it and then makes her drink the rest after they have a staring contest about it, but she loses. Probably out of pity. That’s fine. Barry will take what he can get.

 

They lay back down but not before Iris tells him that she loves him but the next time he wakes up, he’s taking a shower. He snorts and asks her if he’s saying he reeks. He’s startled by how nasally his voice sounds. Makes sense. All the crying will do that.  

 

“Yes” she confirms, he does. But he doesn’t feel judged for it. He’s glad she’s here. She’s probably the only person he can tolerate at the moment.

 

At the foot of the bed, his phone lays, forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i put central city in illinois. the idea of gotham/central city being a parallel to detroit/chicago. that is... hilarious to me.


	3. remember me love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t hog the bottle, you lush.” he accuses and Iris curls over it with a snort, kicking at his hands with her socked feet. 
> 
> “Come and get it then.” she challenges and Barry tosses the computer to his side to crawl over her.

He gets up and showers the next day, not solely because Iris told him to, but because it’s the best he can do for himself in the moment. He’s taking small steps, the way the therapist Joe used to take him to see would advise. He feels better as soon as the water hits his skin and then takes forever to wash up because he doesn’t want to leave. By the time he gets out of the shower, Barry is pruny and scrubbed raw. He wiggles into his crocs that Iris and Cisco clown him for endlessly because they’re a simple comfort. He needs as many of those as he can get right now.

 

Iris eyes him from head to toe when he comes back to the bed.

 

She makes it to his feet and then gives him a tortured look. She wants to make fun of him so badly, he knows. He raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘ _ my father will be in prison for the rest of his natural life, let me have this’ _ . Iris sighs and sits up. 

 

“I figured you’d wanna change the sheets when you got back.” 

 

Now that she says it, he looks down at his creased pillowcases with mild distaste and knows that she’s right. Barry wilts thinking about the energy that’ll take. He has to do laundry too.  

 

“You wanna go to mine? You can change these when you get back. Do all this stuff later?” 

 

Barry has a class tonight. He knows he’s going to blow it off before she even finishes talking. He nods. The letter’s still on his desk. He’d rather not stay here. 

 

Iris gets up and it’s only now that he notices she’s in her pajamas. The union suit is an eyesore, an ugly eggplant purple that Iris loved when her grandma sent it to her for Christmas last year. She must’ve rushed over in the middle of the night. Before he can thank her for that, she’s unwrapping the scarf from her head and tying it around his neck. 

 

“Hold this.” she says and then shakes out her hair. She must’ve straightened it recently, because it falls neatly. Barry doesn’t have a preference for how she wears it, but it’s always strange to watch her small rituals of change before she goes out into public. Iris only ever lets people see her a certain way.

 

He’s not trying to psychoanalyze her, though. He’s just glad she’s here. 

 

“Thank you.” he croaks while she’s grabbing his car keys. She pulls him down by the scarf and kisses his forehead briefly. 

 

“You’re welcome. Let’s go. I’ll drive.” 

 

The ride back to hers is odd because usually it’s Barry in her place, trying to keep NPR down while Iris dozes off to his side. She’s doting on him, but Car Talk is where she draws the line so they’re listening to Sade and she’s making dramatically tortured faces while she mouths the words to Is It a Crime at every stoplight. Barry’s feet are up on the dash and she calls him a heathen for that, even though she does it all the time.

 

“My car.” he points out instead. 

 

She sticks her tongue out at him. 

 

“Hungry?” she asks, because they’re almost coming up near the Big Belly Burger. He doesn’t even think about it. 

 

“No.” 

 

She sighs. 

 

“You have to eat, Barry.” 

 

He closes his eyes. They don’t stop. Instead, Iris takes them on a detour to the grocery store because she ran out of pads.

 

“The health and beauty section is that way.” Barry squints and points out when they get in and Iris makes a beeline for the dairy aisle. 

 

“What? I know. I want. Chocolate? Mind your business. Shoo! Go get some. Chapstick. For me. My purse ran out.” 

 

Barry looks at her. 

 

“Your purse ran out of Chapstick.”

 

Iris looks over his shoulder and nods. 

 

“Mhmm. Meet you at self-checkout.” and then she powerwalks away and Barry stands in front of a Santa house slippers display and tries to figure out why she’s lying. He gives up on that and mills around the sympathy cards aisle for a bit. He usually writes his dad letters, but sometimes he’ll find a really funny one that he knows his Dad would like. None of them are funny now. 

 

He gets some new headphones because only the left earbud has been working in his for the past couple of weeks. Then he realizes he doesn’t even have his phone on him; he must’ve left it back at the dorm. He’s with Iris though, so he’s not really worried about it. If anything Cisco’s the only one blowing up his phone. He gets a hat because it’s cold out and he actually does feel it, despite Cisco ragging on him for wearing basketball shorts to take out the garbage that one time. Barry actually does grab Chapstick before he gets to the register, just in case by some miracle Iris is actually telling the truth about that. 

 

She meets up with him just after he checks out, hands suspiciously empty. 

 

Barry frowns. 

 

“Did you really not get anything? What was the point in coming here?” 

 

“They didn’t have what I wanted. Everything was sold out. What’d you get?” Still lying. Barry snorts. She tries to peek into his bag and he holds it above her head before she can dig into his stuff.    

 

She tells him he’s not funny and that one day she’s gonna get knee implants with matching leg extensions and  _ then _ he’ll see. 

 

“I’m sure.” 

 

Iris’ place is great for many reasons, chief among them being that her room is her own. He loves having Cisco as a roommate, but on days like this solitude is what he craves. Iris gets it because when they get in, she leaves him to the room and tells him she’ll be back in a bit. She probably expects him to fall asleep, but Barry can’t right now. The letter is at the forefront of his mind, burning. 

 

Maybe fostering any sort of hope that he would ever see his dad in regular clothes, in a house full of people that respect him- that love him- maybe that was stupid of Barry to keep dreaming of. All these years of him making promises to his father that he couldn’t even fucking keep. Barry sits on Iris’ bed and puts his head in his hands. 

 

He was supposed to do this right. He was supposed to fix this  _ one  _ thing for the both of them, and then everything would be alright. Barry nearly bites through his lip in anger. Not at the courts. Not at his father. Only one person screwed up here, and it was him. 

 

Iris comes back a while later to him with his elbows on his knees and his head hung between his shoulders. He isn’t crying; he’s run out again it seems. She touches his shoulder and tells him to come downstairs when he’s ready, she has something for him. Barry grabs her had before she can leave and holds it between both of his, closing his eyes and breathing in the skin.

 

She touches his cheek.

 

“Thanks, Iris.” he mutters again. 

 

“C’mon Bear.” 

 

He follows her downstairs and nods to Linda when he catches a glimpse of her in the living room. She’s playing Madden (he thinks) and swearing colorfully into her mic, so he’s pretty sure she doesn’t even notice him. He follows Iris into the kitchen, where there’s a bowl waiting on the table, next to a serving spoon. 

 

Barry smiles. 

 

“You made me mac and cheese.”

 

He laughs and hugs Iris so hard that her feet come up off of the floor and she giggles. 

 

“Do you remember when we were little and you used to get bad news about the case?” 

 

“I’d stay up all night, totally miserable, and you would sneak in the kitchen and-”

 

“Yeah, burn up half of the pots with my terrible cooking to make you feel better.” 

 

“I loved your mac and cheese.” 

 

He picks up the bowl and he’s glad she gave him the giant kind of spoon people aren’t supposed to eat with. It tastes just how he remembers. Iris always uses too much cheese and he loves it. She eats with him, stealing from his bowl while he whines loudly about how she can just get more from the pot- this is  _ his _ . 

 

Linda moseys in at one point, sniffs the air, and says that hey! She wants some, too! She didn’t know Iris could cook! 

 

They both guffaw and Iris tells her that she really, really can’t but she gives Linda the leftovers while Barry carries the bowl they’ve both cleared out to the sink to clean it. Linda doesn’t bother with a bowl, standing right over the stove to eat out of the pot. She’s destressing after those tests killed her, she informs them. Then she swirls her spoon in the pot and says “Hey. Hey guys. That’s what good pussy sounds like.” 

 

Iris says “Linda!” while Barry chokes on air and then laughs so loud that Lena comes down from her room with a facemask on to ask when the party started. Kara’s right behind her and it’s the first time Barry’s ever seen Clark’s cousin without her glasses. She waves. 

 

“Hey Allen!” 

 

He salutes. 

 

Then she yells “FOOD!” and shoulders past Barry to the stove so easily he has the breath knocked out of him. 

 

“Mm.” Linda says while she tries to move the post at various angles to avoid Kara. “Iris, for someone who can’t cook, this is pretty good.” 

 

“It’s pretty hard to fuck up mac and cheese from the box.” 

 

Barry puts together the dots from their impromptu shopping trip earlier.

 

“Fair point.” 

 

“Iris  _ cooked _ ?!” Lena crows. 

 

She definitely remembers the disaster that was all of them trying to make challah together to celebrate Kara making the softball team. They’d had to take the batteries out of the smoke detector and Lena had settled for calling Kara’s zaide Seygel who saved the day by sending homemade babka. 

 

“She used to make this for me all the time.” Barry says smugly. “Probably because I made everything else for her.” 

 

Iris rolls her eyes. 

 

“Oh please, you couldn’t cook either.” 

 

“I made you crepes that one time!” 

 

“You burned me crepes and then dad remade them with you.” 

 

“That still counts.” 

 

“It doesn’t.” 

 

“You two are adorable.” Lena interjects, leaning on the table with her chin in her hands. She’s beaming. 

 

Iris turns and busies herself rearranging spices in the cabinet near her head while Barry rubs the back of his neck and tries not to turn red. 

 

“Petition for Iris to make more of this.” Linda says with her mouth half full. Kara’s still trying to get at the pot, but Linda’s blocking her with her whole body. It’s hilarious considering the fact that they all know Kara could pick her up with one hand if she wanted to. 

 

“Make it yourself.” Iris says, pointing to the rest of the boxes and the block of cheese on the counter. Barry wants to horde them all, instinctually jealous at the prospect of anyone else getting Iris Mac and Cheese. 

 

“Dibs!” Kara yells at the same time as Barry. 

 

She squints at him, seemingly sizing him up and Barry backs down immediately. 

 

“Or not.” 

 

She gives a dazzling smile. 

 

Lena is eyeing him like a smug hawk- really just staring him the fuck down- and only taking breaks to give Iris the same treatment. He wants to ask her what’s up, but he’s tired and the prospect of stepping into any Unknown Roommate Drama makes him even more tired. He can tell Iris is making faces at her, because she’s making them back and Barry feels like he’s intruding on something. He wonders if this is how pretty much everyone feels meeting him and Iris for the first time. They do go on a lot of facial journeys together, a holdover from the days that Joe used to impose Silent Reading Hours in the house. 

 

He decides to ignore it. If something was wrong, Iris would let him know. 

 

When they get back to her room, Iris makes him drink water again. She’s very focused on that. Barry appreciates it. She probably read somewhere that staying hydrated is a small way to combat depression, which isn’t wrong. He makes her drink too.  

 

“Read to me.” she demands when they settle in. 

 

She’s trying to get him out of his head. It works. 

 

Barry spends a few minutes looking around the room for her favorite book until Iris tells him she left it back at the house and hands him her laptop where she has a pdf of Bram Stoker’s Dracula pulled up. When Iris was fifteen and going through her gothic horror phase, Joe had bought her a copy with the pages lined in gold.  

 

Before he makes it to the third chapter, Iris stops Barry and tells him that she knows he doesn’t want to talk about it, but they won’t give up on his dad. 

 

“We can call my dad and tell him about the letter. I’m sure he’ll have some ideas. And this is Cecile’s wheelhouse. We’re going to keep trying.” 

 

Barry licks his lips and shuts the laptop. 

 

“You know what the worst part of this is? Iris, I keep thinking- what if I don’t want to? What if I just- stop trying?” 

 

Iris sits up, surprise and alarm written all over her face. 

 

“Barry!” 

 

“Just-” he rubs at his eyes. “If none of this is even helping him, then what’s the point? If I can’t keep my promises, what’s the point of making them Iris?”

 

“I can’t think of a single time you’ve ever broken a promise to me.”  

 

He’s so tired. She grabs one of his hands. 

 

“Don’t give up, Barry. I know it’s hard especially when you have to go and see him like that, but we can still help him. I know you didn’t want to involve Cecile, but she can help us resubmit the appeal. We’ll get him out. We will.” 

 

He looks at her, at the way her eyebrows draw together in earnest belief.

 

“I’m serious, Barry. You can’t give up.”

 

He folds.

 

“Okay.” He swallows. “Okay, Iris.” 

 

She hugs him and Barry squeezes her close. She smells like apple and mint, but not overly. She’s warm too. 

 

Iris busts out a cheap bottle of pink wine when they finally pull away from each other. The two of them take turns swigging from it and trying not to spill any on the sheets. Iris gets tipsy embarrassingly quickly and Barry isn’t far off. 

 

“You can’t hog the bottle, you lush.” he accuses and Iris curls over it with a snort, kicking at his hands with her socked feet. 

 

“Come and get it then.” she challenges and Barry tosses the computer to his side to crawl over her. He tickles her sides, knowing she'll make that loud, honking sound if he gets her good enough. Her giggles turn into shrieks and he’s laughing too, pushing a finger against her lips. 

 

“You have roommates, Iris.” 

 

She smiles and Barry can’t help but notice how soft and wet her lips are against his finger. He blinks, slow and obsessed with her cheeks, her eyes crinkled from her smile, how she feels underneath him. 

 

Barry sits back and breathes. 

 

Friends. Keep it friendly. 

 

He smiles at her and tells her that fine, she can keep hogging it but she better not try to blame him for any stains on the covers tomorrow. Iris sticks her tongue out at him. Barry picks up the laptop again. He keeps trying to read but she makes him laugh every time she throws in her giggly commentary on Jonathan Harker’s notes. When he threatens to give up on the story she cries “no, no, noooo” and promises to keep quiet while he reads. 

 

Iris roots through her dresser before she pulls out a familiar bag. Barry used to paint her toes on the living room floor when they were in high school so he’s familiar with her pedicure materials. She jumps back into the bed with him, trying to make everything bounce. Iris lays all over him, obviously silly from the wine, and starts to push back her cuticles. Her head and shoulders are on his chest, hair fanning out. He can feel the ends of it dipping into the neck of his hoodie. Soft. Tickling the skin. 

 

Barry leans back against the wall and thinks about how his heart still hurts, but it isn’t an impossible hurt. How he could listen to Iris laugh even if it was the end of his world. How he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. 

 

Clark can just text him the notes from Atomic Theory. 

  
  


-

  
  


Iris wakes up with a wine headache, two missed calls from Cisco, and a bladder that’s about to burst. She has a meeting with her Farsi professor in an hour so that she can basically beg for any extra credit work she can get and then she has to book it to the printing house and meet Linda and Kara to draft tomorrow’s copy. Barry is the one that shakes her awake because he set an alarm so she wouldn’t be late, but it’s clear he’s falling back asleep the second she stands up and stretches. He never took off his hoodie, so he looks totally warm under the cover. Iris wishes she didn’t have to leave. 

 

She calls Cisco back in the bathroom after she pees, whispering like she stole something so she doesn’t wake Barry up. 

 

“Iris! Hey, girl!” 

 

Iris rolls her eyes. “What’s up Cisco?” 

 

“This feels redundant because I know the two of you, but can you confirm that Barry is alive and in your presence?”

 

“Yeah.” She says. “Of course he is. You remember when I came and got him.” 

 

He coughs. 

 

“Well, I’m not really the one on the verge of forming a search party for their man.” he says and Iris frowns. 

 

“What do yo-” she starts, but Cisco says “hey!” and another voice comes through the speaker. 

 

“Hello, Iris!” Patty’s cheery voice comes through and the instant wave of shame Iris feels is almost catholic in nature. It’s unreasonable. She has  _ no  _ reason to feel guilty but- Patty just sparks that in her. 

 

“Um! Hi, Patty!” 

 

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you. I was just wondering if Barry was around.”

 

Iris bites at the skin of her lip, worrying it red. 

 

“He’s- well, he’s actually asleep right now, but I can ask him to give you a call when he wakes up?” 

 

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause. Iris spends the duration of it biting through her lip and staring at a droplet of water in the sink. 

 

“A-alright then.” Patty finally says and takes an audible breath. “Don’t worry about it, actually, I’ll just catch him later. Thanks for your help, Iris.” 

 

Iris can barely get a “no problem” out before she hears the ending click.

 

She stands there afterwards, looking at herself in the mirror and wondering what just happened. 

 

Usually Iris turns on music while she’s in the shower, but she doesn’t want to wake Barry up so she washes in silence. That means thinking. That means thinking about what the hell she’s feeling. 

 

“He’s in a relationship.” she tells herself. “We haven’t done anything wrong. We are just close friends with a long history and I’ve been away from home too long, which is why I’m clinging to the familiar. Barry is just familiar.” 

 

She thinks about his fingers holding her chin while he pulled stickers from cheek. She thinks about how no one else has ever touched her like that in her life. She thinks about her first boyfriend Eddie, how he had always been weird about Barry and that eventually when he moved away, she thought at least she still had Barry. She thinks about Kayla, who she’d met in freshman year and had asked her so many times what was up with her and Barry. She thinks about how, when they broke up, Kayla had said that it was fucking weird anyway how she was  _ always  _ having some Moment with her pseudo-brother. And then Iris had recoiled at the thought of  _ Barry  _ and the word  _ brother  _ in the same sentence. 

 

Familiar familiar  _ familiar _ . 

 

Iris squeezes her eyelids and pushes her face under the water. God, what the hell is she thinking? He has Patty. He  _ likes  _ Patty. Patty, who’s sweet and fun and funny. Patty who invited them all out together. Iris folds her arms and looks down at her bare toes. She’d done them cranberry red because Barry picked and it’s his favorite color. 

 

He’s just familiar, she tells herself again, but it sounds a little too much like begging in her own mind. She sends Lena a tentative text when she gets out of the shower, something she keeps starting and erasing and rewriting and editing. 

 

_ how did you know you were in love with Kara?  _

 

She puts her phone down the second she sends it, feeling too reckless already. This isn’t even a question she should be asking. She’s- it’s hormones. It’s just hormones and the fact that she and Barry are already so close. 

 

When she marches out of the bathroom in her towel, Iris is so caught up in her own head that she almost forgets Barry’s in her room. He moves on the bed and she nearly has a heart attack and drops her towel. Luckily, he’s still asleep and drooling on her pillow. She makes a face at that. He’s lucky he’s so cute. 

 

That’s so wrong. This is so wrong, she chastises herself. Barry has a  _ girlfriend _ and even if he didn’t- he’s not into her like that.  

 

Iris turns resolutely to her closet. She needs to focus. 

 

Lena doesn’t text her back until she’s at the coffee shop on the corner of Islington Ave. It’s no Jitters, but it’s what she needs, even if the barista stares at her a lot. Iris honestly forgot she even sent that. What was she  _ thinking?  _

 

**_is this about barry_ **

 

**_wait._ **

 

**_stupid question. of course this is about barry. you have insane tunnel vision when it comes to him._ **

 

_ ignore previous text _ , Iris sends.  _ crisis averted.  _

 

**_for now. you can’t hide from your feelings forever, west_ **

 

Iris ignores that. 

 

Iris’ meeting with Professor Nowak goes pretty well. She spends a lot of time sharing gooey anecdotes about her wife while Iris panics about whether she’s failing or not until Nowak tells her that she hasn’t posted scores yet, but her last test was definitely an improvement, actually. Iris almost hugs her in relief but settles for doing a little dance when she finally steps outside. 

 

She calls her father because she’s excited, but he’s at work so Iris leaves a decidedly long and babbly voicemail about it. Then she texts Barry that he better pay up. He’s probably still asleep, given the whole letter situation. Barry always sleeps more when he’s upset. She decides she’ll get something for him when she picks up her second coffee.

 

The printing house is quiet when Iris gets in until she makes her way to the back where everyone’s running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Iris takes in the chaos with a smile.  _ This  _ is Saturday Pre-Print Fever. Sports is the worst, because the team from Ohio State is finally here for a game against SCU that will determine who will be going to the Rose Bowl. 

 

Iris knows exactly zero things about football even though living with Linda, she probably should’ve picked up a couple things through osmosis. Speaking of Linda, she looks totally harried as Iris settles in. Kara’s desk is closer than hers, but she’s rolling across the floor in her wheely chair because it’s faster than walking, passing Iris with a  _ HELP !  _ face. Iris tries to communicate the ‘ _ oof _ ’ she’s feeling as best she can. 

 

Lena’s late, but Kara’s here and Linda jokes that the limousine must’ve hit traffic somewhere on campus. Kara rolls her eyes but laughs behind a binder It’s a lax day for Iris, since her pages are all done and now all she has to do is play chicken with Editing until one of them backs down and she either resubmits again or they decide to publish. 

 

She’s on her third resubmission in the email chain when Lena finally comes in with clicking heels and a bag that looks suspiciously full of croissants. 

 

“Sorry I’m late! I got into a tiff with my Ethics professor.” 

 

Iris laughs. Lena is the only that says things like ‘got into a tiff’. 

 

“Again?” Kara sighs. Lena leans down to give her a truly inappropriate workplace kiss and Linda booes. 

 

“I’m right.” is all Lena says.

 

“I want croissants.” Iris says, pouting. Her pout is devastating, she knows this. It’s why Barry always gives her what she wants. 

 

“I’m not Barry.” Lena says, putting her things away at her desk. “I won’t just give you things because you make that face.” 

 

But she hands over the bag anyway and Iris cackles. 

 

“Speaking of Barry-” 

 

Iris groans loudly. 

 

“What happened?” Linda rolls over to ask. “Did something happen?” 

 

“Linda, where are your  _ shoes _ ?”  

 

“Calm down Kara, I’m wearing socks.” 

 

“Nothing happened.” Iris interjects desperately. 

 

Linda squints at her. “That seems lie-adjacent.” 

 

“It is.” Lena tells her. 

 

“Guys, if Iris says nothing happened, we should believe her.” Kara says. Linda groans. 

 

“My god, Kara. Let me live vicariously through Iris’ fake boyfriend drama.” 

 

“There  _ is  _ no fake boyfriend drama.” Iris is about to get another headache. 

 

Thankfully, Professor Maitland comes out of his office to politely cough in their directions and everyone scrambles to look busy instead of nosey as hell. This does not stop Lena from starting a chain email that devolves into Kara revealing that she knows Barry and Iris don’t have a thing because her cousin is lab partners with Barry at CCU and he said that Barry has a girlfriend. This information nearly crashes her computer with the amount of messages Linda and Lena send in response.

 

**BARRY HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!**

 

**_is she aware that she’s the other woman?_ **

 

_ i told you guys that he has a girlfriend her name is patty! _

 

**for the record I thought you were making that up** , Lena sends. 

 

**_she’s cool with you pushing up on her boyfriend 24/7??? Oh my god iris does she know about you? She has to know about you. You two can barely breathe without sharing the same air. It’s like watching Kara/Lena 2.0._ ** Iris shoots Linda a glare

 

Lena sends a lot of heart emojis at that. Kara doesn’t respond because she’s doing actual work. 

_ Aren’t you supposed to be working on changes in roster lineup for the big game or whatever  _

 

**_iris i will give you one hundred american dollars if you can tell me who is in the lineup for tonight’s game_ **

 

_....you win this round _

 

She has to ignore an influx of messages when she gets an email from Editing RE: RE: RE:  _ Campus Clinic Hours Cut To Reduce Staff  _ **_V4_ ** and has to spend another thirty minutes revising something she’s already taken all of the heart out of. She can practically feel Linda glaring at the back of her head and imagines that she’s probably folding a paper airplane to hit her with right now. 

 

Iris kicks off a heel to massage the bottom of her foot and opens the email chain again. She has to squint at the screen because she didn’t put in her contacts today and she almost never carries her glasses around. 

 

**so have you talked to patty? What’s the deal there?**

 

**_Someone please tell allen he can’t have it both ways. unless you two are into that, but i doubt it. you guys both strike me as the achingly monogamous type._ **

 

**there’s no way he’s two-timing. i’ve seen the guy in person he’s like. a giant baby stork.**

 

**_he’s a man, lena. they’re two-timing even when they’re not._ **

 

**Point.**

 

**_what i wanna know is what the plan is for when this all goes to shit. And it will._ **

 

_ NO ONE IS TWO TIMING _ , Iris sends. She rubs her forehead. This is possibly the worst conversation she’s ever taken part of. This includes the time Felicity brought up contraception in the living room while her dad was on speakerphone. 

 

**_you guys SLEEP together._ **

 

_ We do NOT have sex _

 

**That’s worse.** Lena puts in. 

 

Iris rolls her eyes and puts up the middle finger over her monitor. 

 

**ok seriously, have you met patty?**

 

_ actually, she invited me and oliver out with her and barry on their date  _

 

**WHAT**

 

**_LMFAOOO_ **

 

**AND YOU WENT?**

 

**_...was it a sex thing?_ **

 

_ I hate you both. no it was a concert thing. We all had a great time. _

 

**that is fucking weird. you were invited on... a date between barry and his gf. Am i the only one who thinks that’s weird?**

 

_ Yes _

 

**_No._ **

 

“It is  _ kind  _ of weird.” Kara whispers apologetically from her desk. 

 

**so not only have you not told barry how you feel, but you’re what? Going on platonic dates with him and his girlfriend?**

 

_ There isn’t anything to tell  _

 

**_..._ **

 

**...**

 

Even Kara sends a  **...**

 

Iris sends a muffled scream into her hands. She hates her friends. 

  
  


-

  
  


Barry wakes up in the middle of the day, smelling like candy in Iris’ bed. He thinks she sprayed this old body mist she used in high school over him while she was drunk. That makes him smile and snort and burrow into the covers that smell better, more like her. Iris’ comforter is softer than his and her pillows are fluffier. He can’t be blamed for basking. He has to get up and get home, he knows, if just for the simple fact that he left his phone there for the entire day. Iris’ shower is shorter than his so he always feels like a troll using it, but it still feels just as good to get clean. He doesn’t have anything to wear so he grabs a pair of her sweats and deals with the fact that he’s about to go full ankles and calves-out in thirty degree weather. 

 

He puts his hoodie back on and steals her sunglasses too, just for the flood of texts it will probably get him by the time she gets back. Felicity greets him on the way out. 

 

“Nice pants.” She says. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Iris in those, which checks out because you  _ are  _ flooding like hell right now and they  _ do  _ say  **SCU BOXING** across the butt.”

 

Barry tells her that to be fair he did box too, even though Iris can still kick his ass. It’s only because she started before he did.  

 

“I believe that. Before she quit the club for the gazette, I went to a couple of her practices. That girl has a hell of a left hook!” 

 

“Bye Felicity. I’ll tell Oli you said hi.” 

 

She groans.    
  


“Please don’t. We’re having a ‘tiff’ as Lena likes to call them.” 

 

He nods. He’s not touching that with a twenty foot pole. 

 

“Love the glasses, too!” she calls out as he makes his way out the door. 

 

The ride back to his is excruciating not just because of the cold, but because just about everything is open and Barry only has two dollars and sixty two cents in the pocket of his hoodie. He could get chicken nuggets. Barry wonders if the S.T.A.R. Labs rep he’s been emailing would consider him a candidate for Mr. Wells’ program if he knew Barry was willing to eat chicken nuggets at one p.m. as a first meal.

 

Barry pulls into a McDonald’s. 

 

Back at the dorm, Patty is waiting for him. She’s sitting on his bed with his phone in hand, chatting with Cisco. Barry walks in, surprised to see her, but before he can even open his mouth, Patty takes one look at him, shakes her head, and tosses his phone at him. Barry scrambles to catch it and not drop his chicken nuggets at the same time.

 

“You forgot something.” she tells him tonelessly. Cisco is making a very unhelpful ‘yikes’ face as he slurps on something too cold for anyone to be drinking in December. The letter is still sitting on his desk, unassuming in its folded state. 

 

“Patty.” 

 

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on, Barry?”  

  
  


-

  
  


Barry has no idea what the protocol is for being a shitty boyfriend and then breaking up with your girlfriend because you were so shitty to her. He rubs a hand over his face and then stuffs more fries into his mouth. This is quite possibly the most awkward situation he’s ever been in in his life. He’d chased after Patty, because it felt like what he was supposed to do- what a good boyfriend  _ would  _ do, but then she’d told him not to bother. That she got the message loud and clear after all this time. Iris was always going to come first.

 

Barry’s heart had pounded. She couldn’t know that he- 

 

“I-”

 

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Barry?” she’d asked and Barry couldn’t even get the “of course not” out before she explained that she’s never been cheated on but you know what, she thinks she might get why people commit homicide and that she couldn’t believe she ever thought he was an honest guy. 

 

“Wait,  **_what_ ** ?!” 

 

People in the hallway were staring but Barry hadn’t even cared to keep it down. 

 

“You’ve made me into this girl, Barry. The one that waits by the phone for you to call and then smiles when you apologize and then waits for you to be done with the girl you really want and smiles when you apologize  _ again _ and I’m-” 

 

Patty’s hadn’t cried, but it was close and Barry had the thought that his mother would kill him if she could see him now- making girls cry in the hallway. 

 

“Patty, Patty. Slow down. I never cheated. I swear to God. Iris is- I’ve never cheated on you.” 

 

She’d sniffed and rubbed her nose. 

 

“Barry.” she’d scoffed. “You smell like a Sephora right now. You’re literally wearing her sweatpants.” 

 

“I spent the night! I didn’t have any clothes! We sleep at each others’ places all the time-” 

 

Patty held up a hand and sighed. 

 

“Fine, Barry. Fine. Even if that’s true, I’m so tired of this. I put in all of the effort with us. I plan every date. You never ask me over. Today was the first day I’ve even seen where you live and  _ Cisco  _ had to let me in because you weren’t answering your phone.”

 

Barry closed his eyes and rubbed them because she was right. He’d made the stupid decision to start a romantic relationship with her and hadn’t even tried to get it off the ground, just spent the entire time in a world of Iris, Iris, Iris. 

 

“I believe you about Iris, but if we’re going to keep doing this, you need to start letting me in Barry.” 

 

That’s when he made the decision. 

 

“Patty. You’re right. Which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” 

 

It wasn’t right to involve another person’s real feelings in his mess in the first place. He’d been too late for the revelation, but Barry figured it’d be better to stop it from getting any worse if he could. Patty had just sighed and nodded like she figured he’d be the one to break things off. 

 

The last thing she’d said to him was “Could you do me a favor, Barry? Could you at least act like breaking up with me isn’t a part of the chore list, too?”

 

Barry sits with Cisco now in the cafe, sharing a plate of fries. 

 

“I should feel terrible.” he groans. “I  _ do  _ feel terrible.” 

 

“Eh.” Cisco says. “You feel terrible about not feeling terrible. There’s a difference.” 

 

Barry leans his head on the table and pulls his hood up. They’re waiting on Caitlin to get out of Bio and meet them. The both of them are making an effort to keep her company and Barry thinks it’s working so far. She’s looking less like the walking dead already.

 

“To be fair to her, I was there for the very incriminating phone conversation with Iris.”

 

“Huh?” 

 

“Yeah, while you were ‘ _ asleep _ ’, Patty basically had to leave a message with Iris. Not a good look, dude.” 

 

“I  _ was  _ asleep.” 

 

“The assumption was that you were tired from all the coitus.” Cisco explains, dipping a fry in the truly disgusting amount of barbeque sauce he has piled up on his side of the plate. 

 

“Please don’t say coitus.”   

 

“Hi, guys.” Caitlin greets, sliding into the chair across from them. Her clothes look nice. Clean, at least. Barry guesses he isn’t the only one that’s feeling a little less like a disaster. “I see I’m coming into another stimulating conversation. Whose sex life are we talking about?” 

 

She reaches for a fry from Barry’s side of the plate and he shooes her away to Cisco’s side. 

 

“Barry’s.” Cisco answers. 

 

“Nope.” he says quickly. “How was the test?” 

 

Caitlin smiles a half-smile. Barry swears that one day they’ll get her to a full one. 

 

“It went well.” 

 

Cisco groans loudly. 

 

“That means she aced it and is trying not to brag, braggingly in front our faces.” 

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.” Caitlin says. “Speaking of tests, you missed Atomic Theory yesterday Barry.” 

 

He sits up, frowning. 

 

“We didn’t have a test. We already took-” 

 

Caitlin cuts off his panic. 

 

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to bring it up. I brought you the notes.” 

 

She pulls out a binder from her backpack and Barry scrambles to open the camera on his phone and take pictures. Caitlin’s notes are always crazy meticulous where Barry’s are usually scribbled so haphazardly that he sometimes struggles to read his own writing. 

 

“You are a godsend.” Barry says. 

 

“You’re giving him bad habits. Barry just broke up with his girlfriend. He’s supposed to be wallowing.” Cisco tells her, shaking a fry in Caitlin’s direction. She steals it from him and declares that this was a purely selfish move, seeing as she needs something from Barry, too. 

 

It turns out she wants some guy’s number. Some guy that works with Patty. Patty his ex. 

 

“His name’s Ronnie.” 

 

“Oh my God.” Cisco says joyfully. 

  
“No. No no no no. I’ll delete the pictures of the notes. I’ll delete them and then we can be even.” 

 

“Barry, please. I forgot to get his number when we bumped into each other at the boba shop and I can’t do it myself because I have that Medical Math make-up test tonight and then I have to catch a plane to my mother’s early tomorrow. I won’t have time to get to the library. Please, Barry. I really,  _ really  _ like this guy.”  

Barry puts his knees up in front of himself and gives a muffled scream into his folded arms. 

 

“ _ Please _ , Barry.” Caitlin wheedles. “I’d do it for you.” 

 

He hates his life. 

  
  


-

  
  


This is insult to injury. This is the worst thing Barry’s ever done in his life. 

 

“This is  _ priceless _ .” Cisco says next to him. Both of them are peeking out from behind a shelf at the third floor returns desk.

 

“I can’t do this.” Barry says. “Patty already wants to kill me. She thinks I  _ cheated  _ on her. I already dumped her in the middle of a hallway while I was carrying a bag of chicken nuggets and wearing Iris’ clothes.” 

 

“Thank you so much for that image, man.” 

 

“Cisco, you gotta do it man.” 

 

“Whoaaa playboy, Caitlin asked you specifically. Besides, you’re the one with the connections. Even if those connections hate you because you were already in love with another woman before you started seeing those connections.”

 

Cisco’s phone starts ringing as he’s babbling. There’s Sade playing, which means it’s Cynthia calling him.

 

“You are the worst.” Barry tells him.

 

Cisco gives him a distracted thumbs up while he takes the call.  

 

“Hey, beautiful. No, I’m not doing anything. Ohh?” He laughs. “Girl, I’m in a library. You know we can’t get freaky like that in-”

 

Barry elbows him and Cisco gets the message, walking away to have his wild conversation. Okay. He can do this. Jesus. 

 

Barry straightens the collar of his shirt, smooths a hand over his sweater, and walks toward the desk.

 

“Hey, Patty.”  


	4. when i'm reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris leans into her hand and listens to the steaming pot in the silence.
> 
> “You know, you and that boy ain’t fooling nobody. Not even yourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dudes! i'm sorry for the wait! oh man there's SO much crying in this one. also we really earn that fake dating tag.

 

She looks absolutely murderous, but also devastated. It’s not unwarranted. Barry hadn’t realized he meant so much to her and he honestly feels like the devil, standing in front of her with an awkward worried smile. He’d at least waited two days to do this, but he’s sure it’s still unforgivable and that when he gets to the pearly gates St. Peter will replay this exact moment in 1080p.

 

“What could you possibly want, Barry Allen?”

 

He isn’t sure where to start. He should’ve paid someone to do this for him. No, that’s pathetic. He’s an adult. What he had with Patty is over. It might’ve ended badly, but he can handle this.

 

“Spit it out.” she says, pushing a stack of physical therapy books to her right on the desk.

 

“Patty, is there a um- a Ronnie who works here?”

 

She squints suspiciously.

 

“Yes. His shift is over in an hour but I’m sure if Iris is already busy you’ll find the time to catch him.”

 

Barry closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“Patty, I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

She isn’t giving any quarter, arms folded and jaw set.

 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t pay attention to you or what you were feeling when we were together. I’m sorry I set you up to expect something I couldn’t give. I _really_ am, Patty. You were great. You _are_ great and what happened is on me. I know you uhh, probably don’t wanna see me at all anymore, but you should know that.”

 

She softens a little, even though Barry is sure she’d still waterboard him given the opportunity.

 

“I did already know that, Barry. But thanks for saying it anyway.”

 

Patty bites her lip.

 

“Just- can you just be honest with me about one thing?”

 

“Anything, I swear.” He’s caused enough damage.

 

“You’re in love with Iris, right?” she doesn’t beat around the bush. Barry is so used to laughing it off- to denying it with vehemence even when it comes up in his own mind and he’s so tired. He licks his lips.

 

“Uhh. Yeah. I didn’t want to think about it for a long time, but I am. We’re not- we’re never going to have that, though. I’m just a little hung up.”

 

Patty smiles a little sadly.

 

“Thanks for being honest, at least. Not that it helps now.”

 

He swallows. She gracefully saves him from any further embarrassment.

 

“Ronnie’s on the second floor.” she tells him pointedly. “He’s reshelving Language & Lit.”

 

“Uhh, can you actually- could you tell me what he looks like?”

 

She gives him a look that lets him know how weird that question is and shrugs.

 

“He’s an average-looking, tall, white guy with brown hair, Barry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”      

 

It’s clear that she wants him gone.

 

“Alright. Thanks, Patty.”

 

She doesn’t bother telling him goodbye, just nods and gets back to work while Barry books it downstairs. That went better than he thought it would. He’s not feeling like a total rockstar and they aren’t friends again, but that would’ve been Twilight Zone-weird anyway. Barry was definitely at least _some_ yelling. Maybe a few flying books.

 

Ronnie is where Patty said he’d be because she’s not petty enough to send him on a round robin chase around the library. He’s wheeling around a dolly with a stack of books on romance languages nearly spilling off of it. The guy looks more like a biker than a librarian. It’s the leather jacket. It’s out of place.

 

“Ronnie?” Barry asks, in case he has the wrong guy and he looks up, confused.

 

“Uhh, can I help you?”

 

“Ah, I’m Barry. I’m a friend of Caitlin’s.”

 

As soon as he says her name Ronnie’s face relaxes and lights up. Barry wonders if he does that when people mention Iris. This guy’s obviously got a thing for her.

 

“Caity? Caity Snow?”

 

Barry squints.

 

“Um. Yeah? Listen man, she meant to get your number the other night or something, but she’s flying out to her mom’s tomorrow morning and she’s got a ton of stuff tonight so I’m the designated messenger.”

 

Ronnie’s already pulling out a notepad from the pocket of his jacket.

 

At least he’s doing something right.

 

Packing to leave for Joe’s takes too long because Barry gets caught up watching reruns of Angel with Oliver, Cisco, and Cynthia. Cisco’s got some kind of thing with his brother that he won’t talk about but is bad enough that he wants to stay at a dead CCU for two weeks rather than go home. Cynthia’s trying to talk him into visiting her father.

 

Barry has no idea what Oliver’s plans are because he hasn’t said anything coherent since he walked in and announced “Sonic boom in the room, everybody!”

 

Barry hadn’t even known he was coming over.  

 

Iris calls him in the middle of Cisco’s passionate argument for the idea of Angel and Cordelia falling in love. Oliver is zoning out at the screen, eyes rimmed red. Barry’s pretty sure he’s stoned out of his mind.

 

“You’re not even packed yet, are you?”

 

He tries to lean away from the television’s noise.

 

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be packed?”

 

“God, you can’t go into law enforcement, Bear. You’re a terrible liar.”

 

“Why would I need to lie to be a cop?”

 

Iris doesn’t say anything. Cisco and Cynthia look at him pointedly. Oliver whispers “ _There’s a cop?_ ” and sinks down in his chair in an attempt to look covert.

 

“Okay, fair point.” Barry concedes.

 

The first thing Barry does when Iris barrels her way into the room thirty minutes later is hold up a suitcase that’s near to bursting.

 

She squints suspiciously and turns to Cisco.

 

“Hey, Cisco.”

 

“‘Sup.” he’s still in a mood about the Dante thing. Iris knows because he texted her.

 

They all say goodbye to each other. The most Barry can do for Oliver is pat his leg where he’s sprawled out for a nap on Barry’s bed.

 

The drive home is peaceful except for the half an hour when they get stuck in a snow drift and instead of calling Triple A, Barry and Iris get out of the car and push it together like the poor and self-relying college kids they are. It’s freezing and Iris has to be dying in her two hoodies and leggings. After he clears as much snow as he can around the tires, Barry takes the gloves off of his hands and puts them on hers despite her protests. She’s gonna get pneumonia one day, he swears to God.  

 

It’s so cold when they finally get back in the car that neither of them waste their breath complaining. He doesn’t have heat in the car because it’s old and cheap and Barry got it for a steal at an auction in Keystone. He drives one-handed while Iris takes his gloves off and rubs his fingers between her bare hands. She blows on them too, trying for hot air, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her hands still feel like popsicles.

 

After a few minutes, he can feel his knuckles coming back to life.

 

The two hour drive becomes three in the heavy snow, but the both of them get to the West family home in one piece. There are too many cars in the driveway already, which means that Iris’ aunts are here.  

  


-

  


Her dad and Barry joke all the time that she sucked up all the Nosy in the family, but Iris knows the truth. There isn’t a West alive that can mind their business.

 

Case in point:

 

When she gets out of the car, she’s fussing with Barry about her clothes because he’s being a mother hen, hemming and hawing about how she’ll get sick and blah blah blah. They’re supposed to be getting their bags out of the backseat but she ends up running across the lawn from him while Barry chases her and tries to put his coat over her. She shrieks as snow gets into her boots and Barry catches up to her and almost topples the both of them into the front porch.

 

“I win.” he says smugly, wrapping the front of his coat around her and zipping Iris in. He looked like a marshmallow in it and it’s an ugly thing a construction worker would wear, but Iris can admit it’s warm inside up against him.

 

She rolls her eyes.

 

“Now we can’t move.”

 

“We can move with teamwork.” he counters.

 

They start to bicker about who gets to lead the walking when the front door opens and Iris’ aunt Jackie clears her throat and says “ _well, hello_ ” in such a pointed way that Iris senses alarm.

 

Barry clears his throat behind her and Iris tries to slip out of the coat without a guilty face. Auntie Jackie looks like mischief and a half with her smirk as Iris comes to hug her and say hi.

 

“Y’all come in already. You can get your stuff later, because I swear if we hear Joseph complain one more time about the two of you taking too long I’m gonna put that man to sleep.”

 

Auntie Jackie is a professional boxer. Iris has actually seen her put people to sleep. It’s not an idle threat.  

 

“”Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Iris yells as they cram through the door and she’s bombarded with the sight of little cousins running through the living room with party cups and food loaded onto paper plates. There’s Auntie Casey chasing them and Auntie Joanne on her phone. Big John is fiddling with the television and her Nana is sitting in the armchair her father wouldn’t usually let another living person occupy. Joy pushes up Iris’ chest in a quick flame and she runs to her grandmother to kneel by the chair and hug her close.

 

“Nana!” she squeals while Gramma Esther hugs her back and laughs in her smoky voice. She’s wearing white because it’s her trademark and Iris is careful not to let her cold hands touch bare skin.

 

“Baby girl! You’re finally here.” Gramma Esther says and Barry looms in front of the two of them, awkward as always. Iris rolls her eyes. He’s known her grandmother for ten years and he still acts like a boy scout whenever she’s around.

 

“Hello, ma’am.” Barry says warmly and leans in for a hug when Iris moves out of the way.

 

 _Ma’am? Suck-up_ , she mouths at him over her grandmother’s head. He glares at her and she smirks.

 

Nana asks them about school and looks real satisfied when Iris tells her about the gazette and how her best classes are going and then unsatisfied when Iris dodges her boyfriend questions by talking about the gazette again. She loves her nana but there’s a reason Iris can only handle her in small doses.

 

Luckily, Wally walks by at just the right moment and Iris is able to pull him into a lecture about great-grandbabies.

 

He’s got an on again-off again boyfriend but that doesn’t stop their grandmother from going off on a tangent about how she’s not going to be alive forever and one of them needs to start at least pretending they’ll give her some little ones.

 

Wally looks _murderous_ when she leaves him and tugs Barry into the kitchen. There are a couple kids she vaguely recognizes playing on their phones by the stove. She makes a beeline for the fridge and Barry snorts.

 

“Joe’s going to kill you.” he says because he knows she’s looking for the devilled eggs he always makes. Iris finds them and smiles like a banshee.

 

“Don’t be a snitch.” she tells Barry primly and then unwraps the plate but she doesn’t have to because he steals one right out of her hand anyway. They hurry to rewrap the plate and put it back when they hear someone coming and Iris snorts with her mouth full when Barry fumbles and almost knocks the milk out of the fridge.

 

They both scramble to act natural when Cecile walks in with an empty plate in her hand.

 

Barry’s got his hand on the fridge door and it looks like he’s caging her in against it, but it’s definitely because he panicked and slammed it when the milk almost fell out. Iris has her head turned and is looking at the ground because she’s trying to chew the two eggs she’d stuffed in her mouth at once.

 

It’s incriminating to say the least.

 

“Hello, Iris. Barry.”

 

“Hey.” Barry gives a little salute. It’s so dumb. He’s _so_ bad at lying. Iris is struggling not to laugh when she swallows and looks at Cecile.

 

“Hi, Cecile!” That was too loud. She’s smiling too hard. Alright, so maybe Iris isn’t great at it either.

 

Cecile looks _delighted_.

 

  

-

 

 

Christmas is always a pretty intense time for Barry. He gets to go home to Joe and spend time with the flood of Wests that visit for the holidays, but he also visits his father in Iron Heights. This year he has to sit in the visitation room with a broken promise and a letter that says he failed again. At least he doesn’t have to sit alone.

 

Iris comes with him and plays a word game on her phone because she knows that he likes to look over her shoulder and backseat-play. Barry knows that she knows this because she keeps her phone tilted in his direction and lags on words that would normally only take her seconds to guess. Barry appreciates it. It feels- not normal, but less cold than it usually does when he sits and waits for a guard to give them the okay to talk to his father behind a wall of glass.

 

When it’s time, she doesn’t come with him, but Iris gives him a warm smile and tells him that she’s going to be right there when he comes back out. Barry squeezes her hand and tells her to head to the car if it gets too cold inside. He’s sat in the waiting room long enough to know that it isn’t built for comfort.

 

His father looks different and the same. It’s like this every year. Watching someone you love age in the same clothes is strange. Barry has nightmares about coming here and the guard saying that his father won’t be able to see him because the old man finally kicked it while waiting on his son to get him out of this shithole. It’s a stupid dream. That’s not how anything works. It still makes him wake up shivering.

 

Today, Henry Allen is in a good mood. Barry can tell. His father is smiley and asks a lot of questions about life. He asks how school is, how Iris is, if Barry’s eating. He always jokes that Barry’s getting taller by the minute and asks if he’ll have to get them to raise the ceiling for next time he visits and Barry rolls his eyes.

 

Dad’s being so chatty that Barry wishes he didn’t have the fucking letter crumpled in his left hand. Barry pinches at his nose.  

 

“You get that from your mom, kid.”

 

“Huh?”

 

His father mimics him worrying the bridge of his nose and laughs a little.

 

“Your mother would do that whenever she had bad news. She’d take off her glasses and pinch the skin red.”

 

Barry swallows.

 

“Dad, I-”

 

“I know, Barry.” he interrupts. He doesn’t look mad. He doesn’t even look resigned. Barry can’t tell what’s worse. “I know it didn’t work.”

 

His eyes hurt. Barry stares resolutely at the powder-white wall behind his father, trying to gather himself. This fucking letter. He keeps getting them and they keep condemning his father and he keeps trying and he doesn’t fucking _understand_ -

 

“Look at me, son.”

 

Barry looks at his dad. His eyes are red.

 

“You know how much I appreciate this. You know how much I love you, son, but you have to stop.”

 

_You have to stop failing me._

 

It makes his brows crumple and his hands shake.

 

“Listen to me, Barry. You gotta stop wasting your time with this. I don’t want you out there wasting half of your mind and all of your heart on an old man that’s stuck. That’s right. I’m stuck, Barry, but you don’t have to be.”

 

Barry’s chin trembles. He feels eleven years old again, begging for this not to happen- for the world to just believe them. Shit. He wipes at his face.

 

His father’s crying, too. They haven’t done this in a while.

 

“I’m serious, Barry. You’re a good person. And I know I’ve got Joe to thank for that. He did a great job. Sure as hell better than I would’ve done after what happened to your mother. But you can’t spend all of your years worrying about me, son. You’ve got a life. A good life. Stop trying to give me half of it.”

 

Henry Allen has mastered the art of sounding both gentle and stern.

 

Barry doesn’t speak for a while, but only because if he tries he’s sure it’ll be more crying. More anger about how the world is unfair.

 

“Yes, sir.” is what he says when he can talk.   

 

His father smiles and wipes at his own eyes.

 

“Alright, now that you’ve made your old man bust out the waterworks, tell me more about this internship you want. Who exactly is Harrison Wells?”

 

When he gets out, Iris is waiting in the lobby. She takes one look at his red eyes and herds him out to the car. Before they get in, she tugs him down to her height and Barry pushes his face in her neck and breathes.

 

“I’m proud of you.” is all she says. He doesn’t ask for what, only hugs her tight and tries to wash away the guilt he feels every time he gets to leave this building.

 

She bullies him into handing her the keys and they go home. Barry feels exhausted.  

  


-

 

“Everyone is so _nosy_ ” Iris complains, closing the door behind her and starting to pace. He’s half asleep because he’d crashed for a nap in his old room the second they came home. They’re supposed to be going ice skating as a Big Family Thing and the house is a whirlwind of people trying to dig up their old skates and running to the store to buy kneepads for the kids.

 

Usually they’re both a part of the raucous mess, but Barry isn’t going this year which means Iris isn’t going either because according to her “whatever, it’s going to be boring without you”.

 

“Uh-huh” he says with his eyes still closed. He means her too because she’s also nosy as hell, but he’s sleepy and doesn’t get that part out.

 

“Like, Auntie Donna made this comment about how I’m all over you or something and then Auntie Jackie, like, jumps in and starts criticizing us for like being too close or whatever and I’m trying to tell them all that like they’re being a little much and Cecile’s just laughing the whole time and asking about what we get up to when we’re _not_ here.”

 

Barry burrows into his pillow.

 

“And then fucking _Alisha_ gets in on it- like, girl, I see you once every three years, like who even are you? Anyway, she starts asking what’s up with us and I’m like ‘Barry and I are best friends’ but in a way where I’m clearly telling her to mind her business. So she gets an attitude and is like ‘well I wonder if Nana thinks it’s appropriate the way you two act even though y’all aren’t together’”

 

“Who’s ‘Lisha?” Barry wonders vaguely. Iris is clearly worked up, but he’s tired.

 

“ _Right_ , like who even _is_ she? ‘What Nana thinks is appropriate’, like I don’t know my grandmother or something. You know what would make them all look so petty and rude? If we actually _were_ dating.”

 

Barry’s eyes are still closed but he raises one eyebrow.     

 

“I mean, I know you’re still with Patty or whatever, but oh my God can you imagine the looks on their faces if they kept talking shit and turned out to be wrong.”

 

“Not dating Patty.” Barry clarifies. He can hear the pitter-patter of kid feet running up and down the stairs. Joe’s going to start lecturing any minute now. Barry rolls over to get more comfortable.

 

“What?” Iris asks.

 

“She dumped me.” he sighs into the pillow. “Bad boyfriend.”

 

Iris scoffs.

 

“That’s a lie.” she says loyally.

 

“‘S not.” Barry mumbles.

 

“You’re an amazing boyfriend. I know this for a fact. You’re a good listener but not in that fake way where it’s just like, half-hearing shit. You’re reliable. You cook and clean like somebody’s mom. You smell good. It’s your taste that sucks, honestly.”

 

Her nose wrinkles.

 

“What?” he says. He can feel his heart in his throat. He snaps his fingers to make sure this isn’t a dream.

 

“Nothing.” Iris says quickly. “Nevermind. Hey, you wanna be my fake boyfriend so we can beat my annoying family at their own game?”

 

He can hear the petty competitiveness in her voice. The same one that makes racing with her on the ice so fun. Iris hates losing. It’s unfortunately hot.

 

“Sure, whatever.” Barry says.  

 

Because he’s an idiot.

  


-

  


They’re at lunch with Wally, Cecile’s daughter Joanie, and some of the West cousins around their age when Iris short-circuits him. Everyone is joking about when Iris is going to get a man because she never brings anybody home. One of them, a girl with sharp, curving nails and the same eyebrows as Iris, asks if she’s gay and says she might as well come out already if she is. It’s 2019. Nana’s not going to disown her for munching box.  

 

Wally looks distinctly uncomfortable. He, Barry, and Iris are all bisexual, a fact that only the three of them have discussed at length with each other, but no one else. Barry is about to cut in out of sympathy when Iris narrows her eyes, leans over to wipe Barry’s mouth with a napkin and loudly says “I think they have some more of those oyster crackers you like, baby. I’ll be right back.”

 

And then, while Barry’s mouth is hanging open, she gets up and leaves. Everyone is quiet or making flabbergasted sounds and Wally is looking at him with huge, confused eyes.

 

He finds out later, during another rant at the house that yes, that was Alisha and isn’t she just a _dick_ and Barry is trying to focus but ‘baby’ is on an echoing loop in his mind.

 

They’re making red velvet cupcakes together the next time she does it. Well, Barry is mostly making them. Iris is diligently helping and being very good about staying away from the oven. Cecile is teasing them about always being together when she sees them which is making Barry’s ears turn red. He’s downing a glass of water when Iris says “I guess we are kind of attached at the hip, huh babe?”

 

And Barry chokes and coughs wetly, nearly breaking the glass in his hand. She pats his back soothingly while Barry tries to breathe and Cecile looks floored before she turns and races out of the kitchen.

 

Iris cackles and whispers “did you see the look on her face?” and her smile is contagious and Barry is in _deep_ shit.  

 

She touches him a lot more. It’s making him crazy. Barry can’t tell if she’s always wanted to or if she even knows she’s doing it. They’ve always been tactile, but Iris _really_ turns it up. He goes to sleep and she’s snuffling and curling around him with a leg over his hip. They eat together and she puts her head on his shoulder and runs her hand down his arm. He comes out of the bathroom after a shower in the morning and there she is in the hallway, putting her arms around his neck and swinging around to switch places with him. For a second, she’s solid against him and her fingernails scrape the backs of his ears and when Barry gets in his old room he whispers “Jesus” and scrambles to get his himself together.

 

She flat-out sits in his lap during the sleigh ride Cecile puts together. Barry feels like he’s playing romantic chicken with her but he’s losing both the game and his mind. He _wants_ this. He wants it too much. Barry slouches a little to try and get her more on his stomach than right on top of his dick because he’s pretty sure he will actually die if he gets a semi within fifteen feet of Joe West and his elderly mother. Both of them are eyeballing Barry and Iris, shocked.

 

He’s a dead man walking, but he still wraps an arm around Iris when the fake reindeer start pulling them along. Maybe he can live out a little of what he really wants, he thinks desperately. It’s a bad idea.

 

When they get back to the house, Iris is freezing and trying to use his neck to keep warm while he hisses and tries to push her hands away. The two of them end up laughing and wrestling a little by the dining room table until Aunt Jackie yells for the lovebirds not to knock anything over in there.

 

Iris rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at the doorway.

 

“Jesus. Start wearing gloves like a normal person.” Barry says before he gives up and traps her hands between his and starts blowing hot air on them.

 

Her fingers fit between his like they belong. They’re soft. Her hands are always soft. It makes sense. She lotions aggressively.

 

Wally corners them about it after they get to his room and get their coats off. Barry is on his back, laying across Iris’ stomach while she cards her fingers through his hair and they play Scrabble together on their phones.

 

They have to play the electronic version. It’s the only way to make sure she doesn’t cheat.

 

“Dell is not a word.”

 

“Yes it is.”

 

“It’s a brand,” Barry insists. “You can’t use brands. Nice try, Captain Capitalism.”

 

“It’s a word!”

 

“What does it mean, then?”

 

Iris opens her mouth only to pause and frown.

 

“See?” Barry snorts. “It’s not a word.”

 

“No, I swear it is! I just can’t remember right now. It’s like- it’s some kind of nature thing.”

 

“Nature thing.” Barry repeats, suspicious. Iris pinches at his ear meanly.

 

He pops her calf.

 

She tugs his hair.

 

“What are you two up to?”

 

Both of them look up past their phones.

 

“Wally?”

 

“It’s Scrabble.” Barry explains. “She’s cheating again.”

 

Iris takes her hand out of his hair to give him the finger. Wally looks at them suspiciously and folds his arms.

 

“What is this?”

 

“What’s what?” Barry asks innocently.

 

Wally raises a brow.

 

“You’re dating my sister now?”

 

Barry tenses and Iris puts a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Why does it even _matter_? Like why can’t anybody in this house mind their business?” Iris challenges.

 

“I _knew_ it.” Wally hisses. “You’re faking! Why are you doing this? Do you realize I just had to listen to an hour of Cecile talking about how she’s so happy you two finally realized how you feel?”

 

Barry coughs and before things can get too real he says “It’s not a big deal. We’ll call it off before we get the tree anyway.”

 

Except they don’t.

 

Barry’s helping Joe and his sisters carry in the giant fir that Cecile picked when a new can of worms opens.

 

A can of worms Barry has daydreamed before. The kind of worms he stays up at night imagining after he spends all day facetiming Iris before sleeping alone.

 

“Uh-oh, someone got caught under the mistletoe.” Cecile squeals and Barry’s barely registered the green hanging from the doorway to the kitchen before he’s being herded over to his best friend/fake girlfriend that he’s in real love with.

 

Iris looks at him with a challenge in her eyes and Barry is a ball of nervously competitive lovesick energy. He looks her up and down. She’s wearing a red velvet dress because of course she is. Of course she has to be casually gorgeous while she stands under the mistletoe and latches onto him, whisper-laughing in his ear. Barry prays for strength.

 

He leans down. She smells like cake and fresh okra.

 

He closes his eyes.

 

It’s not an especially filthy kiss. Not at first, at least. He’s trying to be chaste and respectful and all the things that putting on a show with his Not-Girlfriend in front of her father that practically raised him demands.

 

And then Iris gets up on her toes and opens her mouth a little and Barry forgets that this is a game. She’s with him- she’s _with_ him and she’s warm and her mouth tastes like the buttercream icing she must’ve been sneaking before they came home.

 

His arms still ache from the strain of holding up a real tree with three other people. He doesn’t care.

 

She makes this noise- this kind of sigh into his mouth when he starts to pull away and Barry has to gather her close again. Closer, closer, closer. He thinks about never not touching her again, about lining up every inch of his skin with hers and never parting. She’s warm and she’s holding his face with both hands like he’s going to leave her if she doesn’t keep him.

 

He doesn’t mind.

 

“ **_Ahem_ **” Joe says. Barry freezes.

 

He and Iris can’t snatch away from each other fast enough. Barry’s half in a daze but he’s aware enough to wipe his mouth discreetly and pray to God Iris’ lipstick isn’t smeared across the bottom half of his face like a caution sign.

 

This is not going to end well.

  


-

  


The kiss is, apparently, a non-topic. It gets shoved into a box and stashed right next to all of the other things they also aren’t talking about. Like why they’re playing this game with each other. Like why it’s escalated so fast. Like the fact that Iris is in love with him but she can’t say it with her mouth so she tries to show him in these small, stupidly masked ways.

 

Iris scrubs her face in the bathroom mirror, pulling at the skin of her cheeks to make herself look sharp. Distressed.

 

She had laughed and played it cool and he-

 

He kissed her.

 

She hadn’t thought he was actually going to _do_ it.

 

Now she’s...

 

Giddy. Displaced. Fraught? No. Something softer and maybe a little sexier, but just as devastated. She wonders if there’s a word between ‘lovesick’ and ‘horny’.

 

 _i’ve made a huge mistake and now i’m lovehorny_ , she texts Linda because unlike her other friends Linda will tell her to pull it together. That’s what she needs. To pull it together.

 

She stays in the bathroom for too long because she’s on her period and a little miserable for it. She wants noodles. She wants tea. She wants Barry.

 

Gramma Esther’s in the kitchen by the time she makes the decision to haul herself downstairs.

 

They must be the only two up at this hour. Iris guesses old people really don’t need that much sleep.

 

She’s making noodles already. Her special noodles. Iris loves her grandma.

 

She sits at the kitchen table and lays her head on the top of the cool wood and stares at her grandmother’s leathery hands working over the stovetop.

 

“You gonna spend all night moping, Butter?”

 

She closes her eyes. No one’s called her that in years. When she was six, Auntie Jackie found Iris sneaking butter out of the fridge and eating it like candy. She’d gotten sick from it after, but she remembers the way her gramma cried laughing when she found out. The nickname stuck until she was fifteen.

 

Iris folds her arms and rests her chin on them.

 

“ ‘m not moping.”

 

Gramma Esther comes over and pats Iris’ head and she feels six years old and full of butter again.

 

“Everything’s hard, Gramma.” she whines.

 

Her grandmother hums.

 

“Well, not everything. Some things.” she sighs. “Have you ever wanted what you can’t have?”

 

Iris leans into her hand and listens to the steaming pot in the silence.

 

“You know, you and that boy ain’t fooling nobody. Not even yourselves.”

 

Iris tenses and hides her face in her arms.

 

“I might be old but I’m not blind yet. The sooner y’all say what you need to say the sooner you won’t be whining for my noodles at two in the morning. The sooner you both can give me some great-grandbabies.”

 

“I didn’t even-“

 

“Sure, you did. You think just ‘cause you weren’t using your mouth I couldn’t hear you?”

 

Iris chews her lip.

 

“It’s not like that for him, Gramma. I don’t think it’s ever going to be like that for him.”

 

She goes back to the pot, leaving Iris to mope.

 

“Lord above. Enough about that, Butter. Come try these and tell me if i’ve lost my touch.”

 

She ends up taking a bowl upstairs, crawling into bed blindly, and trying not to wake Barry up. She doesn’t succeed.

 

He rubs his eyes and blearily asks her what time it is and Iris looks at his face in the dark and wants to cry into her noodles.

 

“I don’t know.” she says.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

She doesn’t turn the light on. She doesn’t want to look at him. She also really, really can’t stop looking at him.

 

“Nothing.” she says and tries not to clink her spoon against her bowl too loudly.

 

He waits.

 

“I’m on my period.” she says, because it’s true and she always gets kind of sad during the first couple days. Their whole thing right now is just adding a layer of drama that isn’t helping.

 

It’s her fault, though.

 

Barry rubs her back calmly. He knows she gets backaches. Iris kind of wants to cry thinking about how he knows that.

 

“Take anything?”

 

“No.” she whispers. She lifts her bowl. “I have noodles.”

 

“I noticed.” He’s probably obsessing over her possibly spilling them in the bed.

 

“I won’t spill.”

 

“Mhmm. One sec.”

 

Barry gets out of the bed and eases out of the room before she can ask where he’s going. He doesn’t let the door creak. This is his old room. He knows how to keep quiet in it. She figures he’s gone to the bathroom or something until he comes back with something folded under his arm.

 

Iris can’t see well in the dark so she isn’t sure what it is until Barry bends by the end of the bed and she hears a familiar hum.

 

She sets her bowl on his nightstand.

 

It’s her old heating blanket.

 

Iris used to get cramps in high school. Bad ones that made it hard for her to get out of bed in the mornings sometimes. Her father bought her a heating blanket after awhile that Iris forgot about when she left for college.

 

Barry drapes it over her and then gets back in on his side of the bed. Iris closes her eyes. The hum of the blanket is loud. It’s probably annoying him to death. He’s never learned to sleep with that sound. How is Iris supposed to deal with this? How could she not be in love with him?

 

“I’m refraining from stealing your noodles right now,” Barry says “out of the goodness of my heart.”

 

“Thanks.” She doesn’t pick up the bowl.

 

“Sleepy?”

 

Iris sniffles.

 

Barry turns to her again, expectantly.

 

“I can’t lie down.” she explains. “It hurts.”

 

He sits up with her.

 

“Okay.”

 

Barry tugs her gently until she’s half laying down, half-propped against him.

 

“Good?”

 

She nods. She’s _not_ going to cry.

 

“Okay. I meant it about the noodles, you know. I swear.”

 

Iris sniffs again and she can’t- she can’t hold it in. He’s the _worst_ . Not really. He’s the best, actually. She hates her fucking period. She’s not even _sad_ but she’s crying because she loves him so much. She just wants to have him forever. She wishes he loved her the same.

 

God, this is why she didn’t want to confront this shit.

 

Ugh.

 

It’s obvious that she’s crying. He doesn’t say anything about it because he knows her and she would kill him for it. He just holds her and adjusts the heating blanket every now and then.

 

She falls asleep that way, with no scarf, folded into him, and overheating to avoid cramps with tears running down her face.

 

Just miserably in love.


	5. the bite on above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He balances the plate on her knees and starts nuzzling at her, blowing raspberries on Iris’ cheeks and jaw. He’s her fake boyfriend. Fake boyfriends are supposed to make their fake girlfriends feel better. This is not dangerous territory, he tells himself.
> 
> Iris muffles a shrieking laugh and shoves at his face when Barry tries to kiss her cheek with bacon grease lips.
> 
> Better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh sisters, we're getting into some feelings!

Barry wakes up with her hair in his mouth and a sore back from sitting against the headboard and holding her all night. His legs are also sweating because they left the heating blanket on and it has just turned the bed into a sauna. It’s so bad. Barry thinks there’s probably a puddle. It is that goddamn hot. 

 

But he looks down at Iris as she yawns into wakefulness and he literally could not care less about any of it.

 

It’s so cheesy and sappy and alarming that his first thought is that she’s cute. Like, objectively she is literally rubbing crust from her eyes and leaning over to sniff the bowl of noodles she left on his nightstand like a bridgetroll. Iris even hacks a little to clear phlegm from her throat and then croaks an apology. It should be disgusting. But he watches her blink herself into a functioning state and he can’t unthink it. She’s just so fucking cute.

She turns to him kind of shyly, like she thinks he’ll bring up the heartbreaking sniffles he sat listening to before they fell asleep. 

 

“My eyes kind of itch. Thanks for last night.”

 

And Barry smiles and rolls his eyes because he knows why her eyes itch. It’s because she left her contacts in before they went to sleep. Iris always puts off removing them until she forgets because she doesn’t like touching her own eyes but when he tells her to just wear her glasses she’s like ‘what the fuck no, you’ve seen them, Barry’. And he has. They’re clunky and they give her fishbowl eyes which he, of course, finds cute. Barry knows she never really got over being teased about it in the fourth grade. Now she drops too much money on fancy contacts and begs Barry to help her take them out when she remembers, which he does even though she always squirms around and laughs nervously when he has to poke around her eyes- and he fucking loves her. He  _ loves _ her.

 

Barry strangles a stressed sound in the back of his throat.

 

He can’t say  _ anything _ right now.

 

He knows if he opens his mouth it will just fall out and be this thing between them that tears them apart.

 

“Can you help me take these fucking things out?” she asks.

 

Barry sighs. And then he smiles slightly and nods at her.

 

After ten minutes of “oh my God, don’t poke my out!” and “Iris you have to stop  _ moving _ ” it’s done.

 

She tells him that he can have first shower. There’s probably no hot water left because this is a two-bathroom house with approximately fifty million people in it right now and they woke up late. She tells him they can’t skip the family outing today, no matter what it is, or her dad might actually kill them. 

 

He agrees and before he goes to shower, he watches her bury her face in her phone for a second and sees how content she is and bites his lip wondering if he’s a part of that. If she was happy to wake up in his arms the way he was happy to hold her.

 

It might be an ambitious thought but.

 

It feels like it.

 

Barry keeps grinning like an idiot while he washes himself in fucking ice-cold water in December. That’s what she does to him.

 

When he finally dresses and goes downstairs, the dining table is a riot of plates crammed near each other while people scarf down food and Joe tries to keep a gaggle of his nephews and nieces from fighting over who gets seconds first. There aren’t enough chairs so some people have spilled out into the living room to eat and Iris has hogged her dad’s signature chair. 

 

She’s laden with food and also a toddler that is perched on her crossed legs. 

 

Barry recognizes the kid as Jackie’s daughter Ayanna, a quiet girl that usually hides behind both her mothers’ legs when anyone tries to talk to her.

 

Right now she’s engrossed in using greasy fingers to swipe over the screen of Iris’ phone. 

 

“Oh, she just pulled up our game!” Iris tells him and the plate on Ayanna’s lap bounces with her laugh. “Now it’s a two-on-one.”

 

“Great. Now you can blame any fake words you make on the baby.” Barry teases.

 

“Ice?” Ayanna says timidly, looking between the two of them. “Ice?”

 

Iris looks down at the screen of her phone, curious.

 

“No, honey none of these letters make ‘ice’. Guess you could try ‘snow’ which is in the same theme, but-“

 

Barry shakes his head. 

 

“Iris, I think she wants ice.”

 

“What?”

 

“Babies like ice.”

 

“How do you know what babies like?”

 

“I read.” Barry says defensively.

 

“Hmm. I’ll go get her some ice and if you’re wrong, you owe me a foot massage.” She gets up before Barry can tell her he didn’t even agree to this bet.

 

Ayanna makes a sad noise when Iris sets the plate on the arm of the chair and moves to set her down.

 

“Ohh, sweetie don’t cry.”

 

She moves the plate to the arm of the couch and bounces Ayanna on her knee.

 

Barry thinks about going to mill around the kitchen and look for scraps of leftovers because everyone’s digging in and he missed out during serving time, but Iris tugs on his wrist and gets up to let him sit.

 

“This is yours” she points out as if to say ‘duh’.

 

And it’s really inconvenient that Alisha has decided to come in through the front door at this moment, because she comments on it. 

 

“Wow, you’re making plates for him now? Iris, girl are his fingers broken?” She cackles as she heads away from them and up the stairs.  

 

Iris’ fingers tighten on the plate and Barry wants to pull her away before she loses it because he’s figured out at this point that Alisha doesn’t even care about them, really. She just likes getting a rise out of her Iris.

  
  


He wholly ignores her, squeezing into the chair and pulling her down so that Iris overlaps him, her knees tucked over his. She relaxes a little but she’s still frowning as he starts to eat.

 

“What are we doing today?” he murmurs for her ears only. He’s trying to distract her.

 

Iris shrugs, crossing her arms.

 

He balances the plate on her knees and starts nuzzling at her, blowing raspberries on Iris’ cheeks and jaw. He’s her fake boyfriend. Fake boyfriends are supposed to make their fake girlfriends feel better. This is not dangerous territory, he tells himself.

 

Iris muffles a shrieking laugh and shoves at his face when Barry tries to kiss her cheek with bacon grease lips. 

 

Better.

 

“I’m supposed to be getting ice.” she protests.

 

“Ice?” Ayanna repeats from where's she's been standing next to them, invested in Iris' phone. He can see from where he sits that she's made some terrible moves on the board, having Iris spell out 'IT' as her next word for a whopping 2 points. It's fine. She was definitely cheating anyway. 

 

“Ice” Iris confirms before walking toward the kitchen. Ayanna watches her every step.

 

She doesn’t wait a full minute before she waddles over to Barry with watery eyes.

 

“Up?” she pleads and Barry is such a  _ sucker _ , because she doesn’t even get a tear out before he’s hauling her up in his arms.

 

They spend the rest of the day playing hot potato with Ayanna while they spoil her and take her out of the house to run errands.

 

Jackie complains that they’ve set her back and now her daughter is going to cry every time somebody refuses to pick her up. 

 

Iris doesn’t even pretend to feel bad. Barry knows she likes being the cool aunt.

 

Things come to a head at the oddest time. They always seem to. 

 

There’s no moment of resolution- no grand romantic moment where everything he wants comes to fruition. There's not even an acknowledgement of the weird energy between them. Barry wishes there was. He wishes anything could be different about this shitty night. 

 

After they drop Ayanna off with one of the aunties milling around the house, they head to the garage together. 

 

They start boxing because he jokes that she’s getting rusty and that the only reason she’s the reigning champ is that they haven’t sparred since high school- when he was about a foot and a half shorter. 

 

She tells him that she can kick his ass any day of the week actually, but she doesn’t because she’s nice and she loves him or whatever. 

 

And hearing her say “I love you”- even in that concept. It screws with his head. He wants so badly for her to mean it. He wants so badly to be hers. 

 

So he says- 

 

“Prove it.” 

 

So they strap on the gloves.   


 

And then there they are sweating together. Getting too close while they circle each other. Barry wouldn’t do this in a real fight, referee’d or not. Joe once told him- "look, son, if you're in a fight you don't have time for nonsense. Someone wants to hurt you, you do what you can but no one's gonna give you the space of two seconds to get into stance or figure out your next move."

  
But he’s not in a real fight. He’s with her, watching the way sweat gathers at her temples. Tracing the tail of her braid while she jumps on the balls of her feet and sizes him up. 

 

She’s wearing sweats and a tank top, more dressed down than she’d ever be caught around the house.

 

Joe built them their own personal training room in the garage when Barry turned thirteen and got tired of getting beat up in the hallway before Earth Science.   

 

They’re trading light jabs, gloves on, bag moved to the side for more room. 

 

Iris keeps weaving in and out of his space and he keeps cornering her, using his height to his advantage. She goes for a kick and he captures her leg under one arm. He taps the inside of her thigh. Not a real punch. She inhales like he’s used full force anyway. 

 

She gets him after, sneaking behind him too fast for him to catch and hooking both of his arms behind his back. She stands there, huffing into the center of him and calls him gangly and slow. 

 

“I remember when you first shot up” she says, a little out of breath. “You were like, smacking your head on the doorways all of a sudden. Tripping all over yourself. And everyone at school wanted to be around you, after. Like- like, you were so cute or something. Just because you could touch the classroom ceiling. Everyone noticed.” 

 

Barry frowns. 

 

He can feel her breathing through his shirt, can feel her forehead pressing through the fabric into his skin. He’s still caught in her hold. He breaks it, tripping her up. 

 

“You didn’t.” 

 

Iris deflects, rolling away from him before he can turn and chase her down.

 

“Becky Cooper did.”  

 

Barry rolls his eyes and uses his shirt to wipe at the sweat coursing down his neck. 

 

“What was your problem with her? Jesus.” 

 

Iris laughs as he tries to get her in a bear-hold. 

 

“She was  _ objectively _ annoying. You have to admit that.” 

 

Barry grunts, finally trapping her against him while she runs her mouth. Her arms are tucked by her sides. She has effectively lost this fight, unless she’s planning on headbutting Barry or kneeing him in the balls to get out of the hold. He really hopes she isn’t.

 

“Besides,” she continues, panting into his chest. “I’m the girlfriend, right? I get to be bitchy about your exes.”

 

He doesn’t know how they started, but they’re rocking side to side together, pressed close. She’s small and warm against him.

 

Barry looks at her mouth. He looks at her mouth and feels how she isn’t trying to break his hold and listens to her little laugh at her bad joke and can’t play this game anymore. He goes to sleep with her. He wakes up with her. He eats with her. He cries with her. He grows with her and changes with her. He’s  _ better _ with her. And it kills him when she does this. When she sounds like she wants him. She  _ sounds  _ like it, but she’s never said it. He’s never said it either, but- exactly how long? How long are they both going to keep not saying it?  

 

Barry lets her go and steps back to wipe at the sweat on his temples. He uses his teeth to tug off his gloves and tosses them onto the table that houses their other equipment. 

 

“What are we doing, Iris?” 

 

“Huh?” 

 

She’s frowning and she looks confused. Barry feels like a trainwreck.

 

“I know you feel-” he’s pacing, pulling at his own hair. He can’t say that. He can’t say what she feels. 

 

He looks at her again. 

 

“Do you want me? Do you want to be with me? I’m serious. This isn’t a part of whatever we’re putting on to screw with your family. If we leave here-  _ when  _ we leave here after all of this and we go back to campus and you sleep in my-“

 

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. It’s a simple question.

 

“Do you  _ want  _ me like I want you?”

 

She gapes, mouth closing only to open itself up again and stutter as he keeps on. 

 

“I’m serious, Iris.” 

 

“I- You’re my best friend, Barry.” is what she settles on.

 

He... deflates is the only word for it, really.

 

“I- If-” 

 

“Yeah, no. Yeah, you’re my best friend, too.” 

 

Iris looks like she wants to say more. He doesn’t want to hear more. Not right now, at least. 

 

“I’m gonna head up. ‘M tired. Maybe tonight you can sleep in your own room?” 

 

He doesn’t take what he said back and he doesn’t stay to hear her answer. For the first time in a long, long time, he doesn’t want to be near her. 

  
  


-

  
  


Iris watches him take his water bottle and leave and she doesn’t know why but she feels sick. 

 

That’s not exactly true, a part of her whispers. 

 

She knows exactly why.  

 

All she can hear in the space that he’s left is-’ _ Do you want me like I want you? _ ’

 

_ Do you want me like I want you?  _

 

_...like I want you... _

__

 

Barry doesn’t get upset often, and when he does it’s like trying to talk to an ice wall. Nothing gets through. No one gets through. She used to be the exception to that rule, but she isn’t sure now. This is uncharted territory.

 

Usually she watches whatever poor soul has to deal with his shut down flounder in confusion and discomfort.

 

Iris is the poor soul now.

 

‘Maybe sleep in your own room tonight.’

 

She chews on her lip and digs out her phone to text Linda.

 

_ I think i messed up. _

_ Bad. _

_ :( _

 

Linda doesn’t answer immediately. Probably because she doesn’t have a GoPro attached to her third eye recording the latest in Iris’ self-caused drama.

 

Still, the one person she wants to talk to the most is in the house right now, hating her after he called her out and she fumbled. Iris is used to being the one to confront people in situations. She’s used to digging the truth out of everybody. She likes it that way.

 

This...

 

Iris sits on the garage floor in her sweaty workout clothes and pulls her braid apart. 

 

‘ _ you’re my best friend, Barry’ _

 

She wants to  _ scream _ . She-

 

“Fuck.” she whispers.

 

She’s  **so** afraid of losing him is the thing. It’s this stupid catch-22 in her mind. Like if she takes it seriously and tells Barry all of this mushy shit that she dreams about, they’ll jump into something too soon and it’ll fall apart and she’ll never see him again. 

 

But if she never tells him the both of them explode. Like she’s about to. Like Barry just did. She-

 

She didn’t  _ know _ . How could she not know he felt that way? Iris sifts through every moment theyve shared in the past month for clues but- it’s just them. Classic Barry and Iris. 

 

Sure, there’s been tension but-

 

Iris digs the heels of her hands into her eyes. She won’t cry. She’s  _ not _ crying.

 

She loves him. Why couldn’t she say that?

 

Iris has a shitty fucking time when they’re not talking. 

 

She knew it was going to be bad, but not this bad. He’s too ingrained in her life. 

 

They left things bad at the house. Iris had been too much of a coward to ride back with him after everything that had happened between them so she’d begged Wally until he broke down and driven her and her 13 bags of luggage back to school.

 

Iris hadn’t even gotten to give him his Christmas present. It sits on her nightstand, badly wrapped in golden paper because Iris is  _ not _ good at that kind of thing. She stares at it until her eyes hurt every night before she falls asleep. Either that or his contact information in her phone. It’s bad.

 

Linda has started sending her the stop sign emoji whenever she feels Iris is talking about Barry too much in a text conversation and it’s just been an eye-opener to how much she actually brings him up. When they’re in the middle of the mall talking about getting new furniture and Iris manages to bring him up three separate times, Lena stares at her pointedly and it makes her feel even shittier. 

 

Linda’s being amazing. 

 

She dealt with Iris wearing the same nightshirt (read: his shirt) and leggings for the two days after her argument with Barry. She dealt with the one night of sobbing Iris allowed herself and the following days of depressed workaholism. 

 

Iris lost her best friend, not even taking whatever the hell else they were into consideration. It doesn’t help that she’s on her period either when she finds herself at the Insomnia Cookie at four in the morning for ice cream. The way her eyes feel, it’s probably obvious that she’s been crying.

 

She’s too busy staring at a picture of them together on her phone to hear the cashier calling her forward the first couple of times. They’re at the Norton family orchard and Barry is carrying her on his back. His coat is the ugly tan, lumberjack-looking one that she hates. Iris is holding up his water bottle for him to drink out of. She remembers that he’d put apple cider in it and that it was spilling down his shirt, but he still wouldn’t stop drinking.

 

“Breakup?” the guy at the counter asks sympathetically when she sets her phone on the counter to dig for her wallet and maybe she screeches at him a little bit when she says “we were NOT together!” and pays.

 

“I know you said you guys weren’t together, but are you sure you weren’t together?” Lena asks her later on from Kara’s bed. They’re supposed to be having a “Girls’ Night”, which she’s pretty sure is code for “Iris Intervention Night” because she knows she’s been kind of a monster at the gazette.  

 

“No. I don't know. We're not now, that's for sure.” 

 

That came out bitter. 

 

“I’m not bitter” she clarifies. Felicity’s friend Amaya hums sympathetically. Iris could just die. 

 

“Maybe not. Still. This is very reminiscent of my state whenever Kara and I get into a tiff,” Lena continues. “which is odd because I thought you and Barry  _ never _ fight. I mean everything, down to the coffee and his shirt. This is all very She’s Never Coming Back behavior.” 

 

Kara looks concerned at that, like she’s about to tell Lena that she always comes back, which Iris doesn’t know that she could listen to without crying. 

 

“To be fair,” Linda interjects. “Iris consumes about four times the amount of coffee any living human should even when she isn’t going through a break-up.” 

 

Iris throws a pillow at her. 

 

“We don’t fight.” Iris tells Lena. “I mean usually we just. Talk. Barry’s easy to talk to.” 

 

“I miss him. More than anything.” she admits miserably. 

 

“Oh, honey.” Felicity murmurs. She gets it more than anyone, Iris thinks, which is depressing because she and Oliver are a tragedy. Iris doesn’t want to be a tragedy. She just wants to talk to Barry.  

 

She thinks that’s why she feels a little like she’s dying. Every time they’ve had a disagreement they’ve talked it out. They  _ always  _ talk and even if they don’t agree at the end, they at least know where they stand with each other. Iris feels sick not knowing now. 

 

She actually hates this.

 

Iris pulls out her phone and goes to the stairwell and calls Barry. He doesn’t pick up, but Iris is determined and she almost starts talking before the voicemail prompts. 

 

She tells him that she knows they’re not talking right now, but they have to find some other way to be mad at each other because she actually can’t live with this. She apologizes. She says even though he hid his feelings, she knows she hid hers too. She tells him that she loves him and she knows he feels something too and she’s not going to sit here with ice cream and her friends that are too cool for this and stare at her stupid camera roll when she could be talking to him. She admits that she has... feelings that they should talk about. She says she’s sorry she didn’t tell him about wanting him like that while she was in his bed almost every week- while she was going on  _dates_ with him and his girlfriend, because it does feel like kind of a betrayal. And she’s sorry for parading him around her family like a joke thing between the two of him while he felt that way. She says all of this and it feels  _ good  _ to get it out. Barry’s always been the person she can be the most vulnerable and honest with, excluding her dad. 

 

They’re going to work this out, because not getting to hear his voice every day is actually the worst. She’s recently started listening to old voicemails like a creep.

 

Also, she’s pretty sure all of that was a jumble of nonsense because she’s had a lot of coffee, even for her, and the world is moving at 2.5x speed. 

 

When she hangs up, she’s gotten two voicemails in the last minute.

 

There’s no way.

 

-

  
  


Barry breaks down about a week into the Staying Away From Iris pact he makes himself. On day one, Clark brings Iris up in conversation and everyone at the table almost visibly flinches when Barry locks up at just the mention of her name. 

 

“They broke up.” Oliver tells Clark, because he’s a dick. 

 

“We didn’t break up.” Barry clarifies. Over his shoulder, Cisco nods solemnly that they did. 

 

“We weren’t together.” Cisco shakes his head to let everyone know that’s a lie.

 

Clark looks confused. 

 

“I’m sure they’ll work through things,” Caitlin puts in encouragingly. “Iris and Barry have something special.” 

 

Barry wants them to talk about anything else. 

 

“Whatever you did, fix it.” Cynthia advises wisely. Barry sighs. 

 

For five days, he lives like a zombie, basically avoiding anyone that isn’t Cisco and spending as much time as possible in the lab. There’s just so much of Iris’ stuff at the dorm. Everywhere he looks, she’s engraved in his life. He hid her Christmas gift in the back of his closet and he's still faced with her everywhere he looks. 

 

“You’re depressed.” Caitlin tells him. 

 

“I’m not depressed.” Barry snaps. He holds up the playdoh approximation of rotted salivary glands he’s been working on since dawn yesterday for her to look at. “Could a depressed person make this? No.”

 

On day five the lab is closed because it’s a Sunday and he’s doing his laundry when he finds a pair of Iris’ sweatpants. 

 

Iris has this thing about being obsessively composed in front of other people. He’s pretty sure it’s because she wants to be seen as responsible and dependable in a world where people are less likely to take her seriously because she’s black and a woman. There’s probably some other stuff going on there, too. Whenever she steps outside she’s put together. He can’t imagine not being able to rely on Iris, even if she wore a trash bag and Jesus sandals every day. When she’s only around him though, it’s different.  _ She’s _ different. She wears sweatpants. She slouches. She’s more physical, more willing to take up space. That makes him feel something he can’t articulate, to have her trust like that.

 

Cisco comes home early that Sunday.

 

 “...are you wearing her pants, buddy?” 

 

After catching himself straightening her shoes in his closet, Barry gives up on this dumbass idea of space that he’s pretty sure neither of them wants or needs. He calls his favorite person. Barry gets her voicemail because she’s probably asleep and not having a breakdown at 5 a.m. in sweatpants that have  **_SCU NEWS_ ** plastered across the ass. That’s fine. He’s still going to say what he needs to say. 

 

He tells her that he’s sorry. He’s sorry for everything. He’s sorry they haven’t been talking and he’s sorry he shut her down about their relationship right after blowing up at her. He explains that he shrivelled up and panicked like an idiot about feelings he’s been having for a long time because he didn’t want her to freak out and ditch him for being a creep, which he should’ve known she’d never do because that isn’t who they are. He knows she would have talked to him about it. He pours all this stuff out about how he wants to be a rock for her the way she’s been for him his whole life and he knows this pining without talking to her was flaky bullshit to pull when he could’ve just trusted her. He’s sorry he didn’t have the courage to tell her before but he loves her and he wants her in ways they haven’t talked about, but he’s hoping they will now. They can work out the details but as long as he still gets to be one of her favorite people, at the end of the day he’s happy. He also makes it clear that they can’t do this again. He never knew not talking to one person could make him feel so disjointed.    

 

Cisco’s in front of him the entire time, looking kind of proud and kind of embarrassed, but mostly the former. 

 

Barry talks for so long the inbox makes him break it up into two messages. It’s fine. He never loses momentum. 

 

“Oh man,” Cisco says when he’s done. “You didn’t even last a whole week. Come here, buddy.” 

 

The hug is nice, actually. Weirdly enough, he’s got a voicemail when he looks at his phone.

  
  


-

  
  


They meet on neutral ground. Or quite possibly the least neutral ground possible, because everyone here knows them by name and there’s a memory etched into every table in this place for the two of them.

 

Jitters.

 

Barry stops himself from ordering for her before she gets there. They’re here to talk. Not for him to fall back into old habits.

 

She’ll want a mocha latte. Extra whip. Three shots of espresso. Two if she’s already feeling nervous.

 

Barry doesn’t realize until she walks in that he dressed up for this. Well. As much as he dresses up for things. Iris is always clowning his wardrobe.

 

She’s wearing one of those coats that reminds him of a marshmellow, slides, and leggings. Her hair is tucked under a baseball cap. She never goes out like this. He doesn’t know where to look. He missed her so much. He missed her  _ so much _ .

 

“Can I get a mocha latte? Extra whip. A shot of espresso.” 

 

Very,  _ very _ nervous.

 

Barry means to open up a dialogue about the importance of communication and how it’s usually their strong suit and a bunch of other really healthy shit. He means to.

 

Instead his mouth skips his brain and says “oh, I love you. I mean, I’m  _ in _ love with you.”

 

Fuck. 

 

Iris looks  _ tortured _ . Barry prepares himself for the let-down all over again, but she says-

 

“Oh my god. You're- I wanna have babies with you. Oh my god, can we do this in your car?” she says, but then keeps talking like she can’t stop.

 

“I’m- I know I kind of made it like a joke before. With my dad and the whole family at Christmas. I know. But I was scared. So I treated it like a fun thing. Because I love you and I thought you wouldn’t love me like I want. Like. I think about how you’ll look when you have wrinkles. And how I’m still gonna be into you when you have, like, one of those bags you have to carry around with you just to pee. And I think about hyphenating when we get married and how you’ll have to cook for our kids. And how I literally don’t think anyone else could love you like me. Like, I’m crazy about you. Did you know when you get really whiny your forehead does this _thing_ and you say **_‘forreal’_** and every time you do it I just wanna give you whatever you want. And I hate how I love when you play the most boring shit in your car- like it’s just people talking about stem particles or whatever on a drive to Walmart, but you get so focused on it, it’s so cute and I can’t even _hate_ it because I **_love_** you.”

 

Her voice cracks a couple of times and knows what she looks like when she’s valiantly trying not cry. It’s a really devastating face that makes him tear up for her. It's obvious she's had a  _lot_ of coffee.

 

“And when I said you were my best friend? It’s true but it’s like. I’m so greedy for you. I want you every way there is to have a person. Oh my god, I know that’s- a lot. Excessive. We’ve kissed literally one time. But I do. I think about being the only person you touch for the rest of your life. I want that. Ok. I’m done talking. Jesus, you let me just say all of that out loud, you are the worst.”

 

“I want to try something.” Barry says once they’ve made it outside together.

 

They’re aimlessly ambling toward nowhere in the parking lot because neither of them want to leave.

 

She looks up at him through her lashes.

 

“Try what?”

 

Barry links their fingers together with some effort. Her hands are shaking. It's the caffeine. She’s not wearing heels. He looks drowsy and content and eager all at once.

 

He plays with her fingers for a minute, until Iris notices she’s pressed all the way up against him.

 

Too bad she can’t really feel much through her puffy coat. She self-consciously wishes she’d worn something sexy for this little meet-up.

 

Barry doesn’t seem to mind.

 

He leans down and says “this.” and then presses his lips to her forehead and Iris’ heart is too busy fluttering for her to call him out on being such a cheeseball.

 

He doesn’t stop.

 

“and this.” he says, kissing the tip of her nose.

 

“and this.” he says, and Iris feels something in her gut curl in anticipation when he tilts her chin up.

 

He noses at her first, teasing and brushing their lips against each other. Not kissing her. Just letting her reach for him, on her toes all desperate. She can’t- she can’t if he doesn’t lean down enough to meet her. Iris makes an impatient noise. The corners of his mouth turn up, a smidge too smug. He gives in before she can start getting really annoyed.

 

It’s a good kiss.

 

Good enough that Iris can’t really think. She just lets him take her weight and starts wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down, down, down. Trying to get all  she can and then keep it. He feels so good. He’s so gentle. 

 

Iris gets it now- what people mean when they say ‘swoon’.

 

They have to stop, only because they get honked at and when Iris clamors to ignore it and find his lips again Barry gently stops her.

 

“No, I- I want it just for us.”

 

Iris doesn’t know what he means but she links pinkies with him on the way to his car. They fog up the windows together like teenagers. 

 

Iris is straddling his lap with the driver's seat leaned back and Barry's got both hands settling dangerously low by the time he tries to calm them both down. Iris is dizzy enough that she's thinking about grabbing one of his hands and shoving it down her leggings herself when he says "okay, okay." 

 

It takes her a minute to catch up. 

 

Iris reins herself in when he runs his hands up to her shoulders again. She has to shift so she isn't, like, sitting right on his dick. It feels very interested, which makes her feel very interested, which leads to the opposite of her focusing on what's coming out of his mouth. 

 

"We're going on a date." he says with conviction. 

 

"I'm going to date you." Iris agrees. "We're dating. You and me. I'm dating the shit out of you. Let's- we're _dating._ " 

 

She's so happy and so excited and she wants to convey how serious she is so she grabs his face between her hands. She loves the dopey grin that breaks out over his face. 

 

"Wow. You really are a writer."  

 

Iris rolls her eyes, but she isn't mad. How could she be anything but just- full of joy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i was gone for a....while drag me. new job! love that for me! i swear the last chap has been started.


	6. highest by your warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry is very romantic. Iris is very compromised by this. Also, they both get down. Probably a gratuitous amount.

Barry’s nervous about their first date. 

 

At first, he’s in this euphoric state- just totally on cloud nine after everything, because it’s real. She’s really in love with him. How did he  _ manage _ this??

 

And then Barry thinks,  _ Oh fuck, I can’t screw this up. _

 

So he goes a little crazy setting up for their date. 

 

Iris likes those diners that have patios. Barry knows this because when they were teenagers Iris once told him that eating outside under the stars was romantic. Barry had immediately responded that she was overselling the concept a little but that he would loyally shoo any bugs away from her food. Neither of them had even thought about the fact that Barry basically assumed they’d be dating even then.

 

So he pulls some strings to have their first date on the rooftop of Jitters.

 

‘Pulling strings’ in this case meaning he talks to the baristas and they coo at how ‘romantic’ he is and beg their boss to let Barry have the roof for the night. She gives him a firm no at first and then a soft yes after Barry promises her 100 bucks and no weird stuff that’ll end up in the news.

 

And then, because he’s not made of money, he freaks out about the bribery and the case of roses he stress-ordered online and realizes he has nothing to spend on clothes for this date. She has repeatedly clowned him for the amount of plaid he owns. Barry’s normal clean-up act isn’t going to cut it.

 

...so he wears his suit from prom night. 

 

It’s still good, even if Barry has grown another three inches since high school.

 

He actually ditches the last half of a class to set everything up. In his defense, there are a  _ lot  _ of candles to place and it’s an elective anyway.

 

He doesn’t realize until she calls in the middle of him artfully placing the last rose that he’s running 45 minutes late to actually  _ get  _ Iris.

 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ .” is how he answers and she smiles on the screen, happier than he’s ever seen anyone after almost being stood up.

 

“Just wanted to call my best friend and talk about this total jerk. Can you believe this hot guy stood me up?”

 

Barry laughs and covers his eyes, embarrassed. He remembers at the last second to tilt his phone so that she can’t see behind him. 

 

When he picks her up, he almost drives up onto the sidewalk because she looks so good. 

 

She’s wearing gold and his first thought is that she looks expensive. Which is a totally unethical concept, he chides himself. Expensive is the wrong word- she looks  _ radiant _ . Like she’s going to a ball and not to the roof of a coffee shop with a guy that keeps Nike slides in his trunk. 

 

“Is that your suit from prom?” Iris asks and he could just die.

 

“These are for you.” he distracts her with a bouquet. Peonies. Her favorite. 

 

She makes this face as she takes them and Barry panics for a second because she only moves her lips like that when she’s trying to hide how she’s feeling. 

 

“What is it?” Barry asks. 

 

“Oh- uhh. I just. No one’s ever really gotten me flowers before.”

 

He softens. 

 

He’d go broke getting her flowers every day of her life if she wanted. 

 

On the ride there he plays a bunch of songs from their first middle school dance that all make Iris laugh and start shimmying in the passenger seat and Barry realizes this was a stupid romantic idea because he spends way more time looking at her like a dope than looking at the road.  

 

He helps her out of the car when they get there and relishes the look of confusion on her face. 

 

“Uhh- Barry? Why are we at Jitters? I don’t need a pick-me-up, I told you I’m good to go. Also I thought you were still being withholding about the coffee thing anyway.” 

 

“I do not support your caffeine addiction.” he says loyally. “C’mon.” 

 

He takes her hand and takes out the key he did a lot of begging for earlier. 

 

“Oh my God, are we breaking in?” She clutches at his fingers and he rolls his eyes. 

 

“You just saw me use a key.” 

 

“Yeah, where did you  _ get  _ that?”

 

Barry pulls her along. 

 

“Oh my god, we can’t be in here. If this is a coffee heist, I’m flattered but I’d rather go for the big-time. What’s the point in risking it all for like 400 dollars and bean juice? Museum robbers have the right idea. Morally and pecuniarily speaking.” She’s babbling. She’s nervous. Barry takes them up the stairs and makes her close her eyes when they get to the door. 

 

“Is this so that I’m not a legal witness to your crimes? Because I literally just watched you break us in so wha-” 

 

He uncovers her eyes and Iris shuts up.

 

Barry’s feeling pretty smug as she looks around in awe. Iris presses her chin into her flowers and he thinks she might actually cry. The candles  _ are  _ a nice touch, he decides. He bought almost 100. Little things to spell out her name on the rooftop in light. 

 

“I don’t know if you remember, but uhh, when we were kids you said once. Your dream date was under the stars.” 

 

There’s a picnic blanket and flowers- flowers  _ everywhere.  _ Roses because he likes them and peonies because she loves them. He hadn’t accounted for it snowing, even if it’s only a light flurry.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t even think to look up the weather foreca-” 

 

He suddenly can’t talk because she’s jumping up to kiss him, hands cradling his cheeks like he just asked for her hand in marriage. She dots his face with kisses all over, a little too wet because she  _ is  _ crying. 

 

“I love you. I-”

 

He kisses her back, holding her waist. Satin slips under his fingers. She smells so good. He presses their foreheads together because he wants to keep looking at her smile. 

 

“I don’t care if it’s snowing. This is so crazy. This is so perfect. I can’t believe you did this, you nut.”

 

“You’re the nut for dating me.” 

 

She just shakes her head against his and kisses him again.

 

Barry thinks he did well. 

 

It’s actually wet on the ground, so they end up having to go downstairs inside, but Barry thinks it’s a good date.

 

No, he thinks while he watches Iris sit on the Jitters countertop wrapped in the blanket from his car, it’s a great date.

 

They don’t have sex after, because Barry’s trying to prove a point, even if it makes Iris pout and inform him that she respects his choice even if he’s being withholding. In the past, Barry used sex with his partners to make up for things, which he doesn’t know how he feels about. And even though it was a great date, he feels bad that he wasn’t able to keep it perfect. 

 

So, weirdly enough, he doesn’t want sex tonight. It would feel- manipulative. 

 

He explains this in the car and Iris looks at him for a minute, then takes off her seatbelt and climbs into his lap. 

 

“I’m not trying to get in your pants.” she says softly. “I just want to hug you.” 

 

She holds him and Barry buries himself in her neck. 

 

“You’re hard on yourself, Barry Allen.” she whispers, rubbing his back. They sit there for a few minutes before heading in to her place and sleeping together in full dress like an Amish married couple.   

 

That’s not to say that they never have sex.

 

Barry has a  **_thing_ ** , no matter how much he swears he doesn’t. He goes down on Iris so often that at first she thinks he must be on some kind of personal mission to get her even more into him. She assures him that’s an impossible task. Granted, it’s not an incredible amount of experience she has in the bedroom, but Iris can connect dots. The guy is  _ really  _ into oral sex. 

 

Whenever she brings it up he gets red around the ears and goes “ _ Iris. _ ” like she’s embarrassing him with her scandalous mouth which makes her laugh and lose track of grilling the truth out of him. She figures it’s not a project thing the day that he takes her to the unisex bathroom in the library during a study break and holds Iris against the locked door with her pants and boyshorts shoved down to her knees while she tries to keep quiet. 

 

“Yeah?” he asks her when Iris has pulled on his hair for doing something  _ amazing _ with his fingers. Her legs feel unsteady. She has the unsexy thought that Barry Allen’s mouth might just make her bust her ass in a public bathroom.

 

Barry grips at her thigh and keeps her open when her legs clamp up reflexively and Iris has to bite her fist to muffle her climbing shriek until she’s finished and slumped on the door. When she finally gets up the energy to unzip his jeans and get him back, Barry smiles this slow smile and tells her not to worry about it before he kisses her lips.

 

So it’s not a science thing. 

 

There’s nothing he’s trying to like, quantify or whatever. 

 

Barry just likes it.   

 

He _ likes _ being down on his knees, likes prying open Iris’ thighs when she’s shaking and clenched tight from him eating her out like she’s his last meal. He says filthy things- things Iris didn’t even know Bartholomew Henry Allen  _ thought _ about- like how it’s his favorite sound when he gets her riding his fingers and she’s so wet he can hear it. Like how he could sit for hours and watch the way her panties soak when he thumbs at her while she screws her eyes shut and tries to keep her legs still. 

 

Cisco’s in his shitty night class and Iris came over with the sole purpose of congratulating Barry on the Wells internship, and yet somehow, she’s the one that ends up on her back in the sheets, gasping for air.

 

“S’okay, I got you” Barry coos, hands rubbing at her thighs when Iris starts to come so hard that she loses her breath and curls up, everything warm and bursting inside of her. Three of his fingers are still dripping wet and they smear on her skin. His chin is shiny.

 

“C’mon, Iris,” he whispers “C’mon, open up for me?” She cannot believe his voice stays that deceptively sweet when he’s making her fall apart like this. Her gut clenches.

 

“Shutuuuuuup” she keens, thighs tensing.

 

She tries to stop the spasms and control her legs  _ without _ asking for Barry’s help because she won’t let him get smug about this kind of thing. Her panties are long-abandoned, somewhere tangled in his comforter after he kissed her through them until she shoved them down herself. She’s still wearing the matching bra. It’s not even lace but Barry still looks at her like it is when she finally pushes herself up and huffs in his direction.

 

“Barry we should’ve waited for-  _ oh- _ this was about your thing!”

 

He’s still nuzzling her hip, stroking the outsides of her thighs firmly, and waiting for her to open up again. 

 

“Bear, we were supposed to celebrate your internship.” Iris tries not to sound whiny and fucked out. It’s very hard for her to even take her _ self _ seriously when she’s sitting up in a wet spot. “I brought you  _ cake _ .” 

 

“Hmm. You sure did.” Barry says into her skin, pushing sloppy kisses into her pelvis. Iris laughs her startled, shriek-laugh and he pats her thigh. “You don’t think this is fun?”

 

“ _ Barry _ .” she’s trying to sound disappointed. It isn’t remotely convincing. 

 

His hair is a mess from where she’s been pulling at it. His eyelids are half-open. His lips are puffy. He looks as drunk as Iris feels and they haven’t even opened the bottle of Schnapps she brought. She falls back into the sheets and yawns. The shakes have mostly passed, though she’s still twitching randomly, little shocks running up the backs of her thighs. She’s so relaxed she could pass out now, with Barry laying gentle kisses on her hip-bones.

 

In fact... 

 

“Are you falling asleep?” Barry asks her suspiciously, sitting up. Iris has only slept with two other people in her life, but neither had been too happy with her tendency to pass out in bed. She remembers a lot of half-annoyed texts about that. Barry seems to find it funny more than anything.   

 

Iris smiles in answer, her goofy sexed up smile that she’s not self-conscious enough to control after two good orgasms. 

 

“Maybe.”

 

Barry grips her left ankle and pulls her leg up so gently that Iris wants to hug him close and kiss his brows, his cheeks, his knuckles. Her tender guy. When he presses a thumb into the back of her knee, she shivers again. 

 

He closes his eyes, puts his lips to her calf for a moment and inhales. Not kissing. Just touching his skin to hers. Then he looks at down at Iris with a teasing smile. 

 

“Really? I thought we were celebrating. You did bring me cake.”

 

She yawns and tells him if he toned it down, maybe she wouldn’t be sleepy. He tells her he’s sorry she can’t keep up. Iris knows he knows how competitive she is and that he’s baiting her but she can’t help herself. She tackles him with a yell and they roll around laughing until he kisses her and her knees part like water for him.

 

“Love you, Iris West.” he says before settling back down and starting again, spreading her cunt open and licking softly enough that her body isn’t overwhelmed. At least not by that. 

 

_ ‘Love you, Iris West.’ _

 

She digs her nails into the sheets and grips the back of his head at the same time, breath coming too fast already. 

 

**_Love_ ** .

 

Okay, that really does it for her, apparently. Like it’s all she can think about and she keeps relaxing further and further. At some point, he stops holding her hips down. He doesn’t have to; she’s not going anywhere. There’s no tension in her thighs anymore and she’s wetter than a slip ‘n slide, which she’d normally be embarrassed about but she’s just floating in this nice headspace. She can’t even muster up shame at just lying there with weak legs and letting spikes of pleasure rush down to her toes. He’s so good, is all she can think. He’s so good to her. Iris is pretty sure she’s just a puddle on the bed by the time he gives her pussy a break. Vaguely, she understands that she’s made a mess of his mouth and the bed.

 

That’s okay.

 

Iris can finally run a hand down his stomach and watch him lick his lips and make fists in the covers. She takes the condom off of him because she’ll never say this out loud, but she loves it when he makes her a mess. She’s not, like, obsessed with his come or whatever, but she loves it when he’s a little out of control. A little too wild to keep everything clean and perfect. And she likes to feel his skin. How hot and firm he is to the touch.

 

Iris strokes him the way he likes- slow and steady pulls. As much as Barry likes to watch her, she likes to watch him. He shakes like a leaf and hardens up fast whenever she gives him all her attention like this.

 

She likes it that he gets intense when she’s watching. She likes that all it takes is a  _ look  _ for him to fall apart for her.

 

Barry gets red around the ears whenever he’s close and he leans over her, groaning loud when she twists her hand and gets him good. If Iris could move her legs she’d wrap them around his back and pull him down onto her, but for now she settles for looking up.

 

“That was so good-  _ you’re  _ so good. You make me so... you make me stupid.” she says quietly, “I love you, Barry.” 

 

and as soon as the words come out of her mouth, Barry stiffens and jerks, crying out. He spurts over her fingers, hot and wet and helpless.

 

Iris smiles and yawns. 

 

“Mmm, I’m not cleanin’ that.” she admits, rolling so she isn’t in the wet spot. 

 

Barry wheezes a laugh, still wrung out, and blows a strawberry on her cheek.

 

He isn’t surprised in the least when she starts to doze off. Keeping Iris awake after sex is nearly impossible. He’s surprised he managed so well the first time. When he gets a warm washcloth to clean her, Iris lets him move her around gently. He won’t be able to get to the ruined sheets until she wakes up and he sighs when he realizes it. 

 

He honestly thinks about just sitting her on his desk while he replaces the sheets.

 

“Baby, come sleep.” Iris mumbles a minute later when Barry is still standing, thinking.

 

He gives in. 

 

“Yeah, okay.” 

 

He learns that if he kisses the back of her neck, she basically disintegrates. She learns that if she’s on top, he’ll last about three seconds. 

 

The first time they fuck with him inside of her, Iris cries. It scares the living hell out of Barry, so much that he immediately stops, which gets Iris hilariously heated and then they sit and have a talk so embarrassing for Iris that she spends half of it staring at the ceiling instead of him. It’s not like she  _ planned _ on being a blubbery mess.

 

She admits that something just- wells up inside. It just feels so good. She says that of course she knew before that he loves but it’s different to know it while he’s inside of her. She gets kind of incoherent but the gist is that she can feel how much he loves her and how much she loves him for loving her and her body needs an outlet for that well of emotion. 

 

That makes Barry hold her tight, when she says it. She can feel him shaking. He’s either crying from that revelation or very close to it.

 

Iris holds him back and feels slightly less embarrassed. 

 

The next time he’s in her, she doesn’t cry right away again, which makes her fist pump and him laugh when she explains why she just fist-pumped in the middle of sex. It’s not right away, but then Barry opens his big fat mouth and says he’s hers and no one else’s and she’ll have him as long as she wants until they die. 

 

It’s so goddamn corny and morbid and weird or at least it should be but it just makes Iris shiver and cry out and try to ignore the fat tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart squeezes. 

 

“I- I-  _ Barry _ .” She gives up and wails. Thank god she’s facing the shower wall and he’s crowded up behind her so he can’t see.

 

It’s even worse when he  _ can  _ see. He doesn’t stop but he slows and asks her if she’s okay, and when Iris nods and kisses every part of his face that she can, Barry asks if it’s him. If it’s how much she loves him. When she nods helplessly, that’s when he lets go of his brain-to-mouth filter and babbles about how warm she is for him- how she’ll open up for him like this every time won’t she? Because she loves him this much. Would give him anything wouldn’t she? He tells her he’ll give her a baby one day, just like this and it makes Iris whimper and jerk underneath him. Barry Allen and his  _ mouth  _ in bed. She’s going to write a story on this phenomenon, she thinks dizzily.    

 

“A baby, huh?” She asks later when they aren’t drooling on each other in their sleep, and Barry turns red and digs into his sandwich. She laughs until her stomach hurts because he can say all of that filthy shit but gets mortified when she brings it up. 

 

Iris wipes pound cake crumbs off of her mouth and smiles, sheepish. 

 

“Don’t worry. I was definitely into it. Worryingly into it.”

 

Barry goes from trying to pretend he isn’t embarrassed to giving her bedroom eyes in the middle of Jitters. 

 

“Not now, I mean! Obviously.” Iris splutters. “Just, like, in the future. After we’re married and boring, I think.” 

 

Barry smiles.

 

“Cisco says we’re already married and boring.” 

 

He’s right. They spend the next day and a half that they’re apart sending each other baby names. Iris has given up on them not being the most mushy, gross couple ever. 

 

Anyway, Iris figures it out by the time Valentine’s Day rolls around, which is not something she’d generally make a big deal about, but she’s excited. He’s usually the one reducing her to a puddle in a bedroom, finding out how she ticks and doing everything perfectly enough that Iris feels like he has some sort of map to her. Now she’s got a leg up. 

 

Linda and Lena catch her knee-deep in a reddit thread about body worship that she’s stumbled on and make so much noise about it that Iris wants to melt into the floor and promises herself that she’ll never google the words  _ ‘boyfriend loves going down on me’ _ at a gazette computer ever again. 

 

Anyway, she’s armed with new knowledge by the time the holiday rolls around and she’s determined to blow his mind. 

 

She goes shopping, because Iris loves any excuse to splurge.

 

“Is this sexy?” she asks, turning in the little dressing room that three people should not be stuffed into.

 

“If the both of us were not in happy relationships, I would be doing anything to get into that.” Lena says loyally, pinching Iris’ butt. “You look amazing. Your boyscout boyfriend will probably pass out.”

 

“Why am I here for this?” Cynthia asks. She’s still got her motorcycle helmet under one arm while Iris turns in the mirror.

 

“Because- just look at you.” Iris motions to Cynthia’s everything. “When are you not sexy?” 

 

Cynthia shakes her hair out at that. 

 

“It’s true,” she says magnanimously. “I sprang from the womb fully formed wearing La Senza.” 

 

“Exactly.” Iris says. “I need you to help me with this. I don’t want to blow Barry’s mind.” 

 

She turns back to the mirror, determined. 

 

“I want to destroy him.”

 

Cynthia and Lena wear matching Grinch smiles. It’s a scary sight. 

“Well, I can work with that. Now, I know black is standard sexy, but you? You could take down worlds in red.”

They leave with more bags than justifiable even though Iris stuck to the clearance rack like glue. She gets a little overzealous in any store, to be fair. 

And then she doesn’t even get to unveil her new purchases.

They wake up together on Valentine’s day all cuddled up and generally mushy but get split up for the entire rest of their day. The gazette was running a piece on administrative involvement in scamming star student athletes out of thousands that made it onto someone’s radar. Someone high up enough that after her classes she has to sit in a meeting that runs for  _ three  _ hours about what they can and cannot publish while on university payroll.     

She sends Barry an apology text and then 5 more messages that are strings of crying and/or angry emojis. Lena and Linda are just as pissed as her and they all shoot each other instant messages while Maitland rails at them for putting the school in a position to air their dirty laundry to the public. 

Iris is already heated about censorship on the best of days, so she’s feeling nearly murderous by the time she finishes getting chewed out and she checks the clock to see that it’s midnight exactly. 

She texts Barry, expecting him to be at her place by now, probably nerding out with Felicity over some new Star Wars lore thing or at the batting cages with Kara. They get on like a house on fire. Both of them love baseball, even though he is  _ so  _ bad at it. Her boyfriend is amazing but when he plays he reminds Iris of one of those dancing blow-up things in the parking lot at car dealerships. They might be feeding everyone for the night. It’s really 50/50. Kara and Barry  _ love  _ food.

She once watched both of them come back from a food run with each of them carrying full-sized pizzas that they claimed were personal. 

“This is bullcrap.” Lena says next to her as they file out and head home. “I had a car lined up to take Kara out for tonight and then  _ that  _ fell through because of this bullshit meeting, which lasted for  _ two  _ more hours than I told her it would so she’s been sending me sad, lonely pictures of her in her cute softball outfit all night. Fuck Maitland.” 

A car lined up. Iris snorts. Every once in a while, Iris forgets that Lena is technically rich, but then she speaks and sounds like an oil tycoon that slums it with them out of choice.  

 

“Did you just say ‘bullcrap’?” Linda laughs. “Oh my god, your PG girlfriend is rubbing off on you.” 

“Is Barry with her?" Iris wants to know. "God, I’m exhausted.” 

“No, he’s at the lab still, I think.”

Iris wants to whine miserably. 

S.T.A.R. Labs is becoming her hellscape and Dr. Harrison Wells specifically is becoming her personal enemy. Barry spends pretty much every waking minute in that place when he’s not in classes or with her and she can see the toll it’s taking on him. He already never got enough sleep, but now he runs on fumes. Their phones are typically on silent in the lab, so she’s probably got to wait for him to be done for the night before she hears anything back.

She falls asleep on Valentine’s night alone with her phone in her hand, screen frozen on a picture of the two of them in matching peanut butter and jelly costumes from the 7th grade. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this count at pregnancy kink????? DOES it??


End file.
